


Ardent Obsession

by havok2cat



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alpha Hannibal Lecter, Alpha Will Graham, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cannibalism, Canon-Typical Violence, Choking, Fight Sex, Fluff and Smut, Happy Murder Family, Light BDSM, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Misunderstandings, Mpreg, Multi, Murder, Murder Husbands, Obsessive Behavior, Omega Matthew Brown (Hannibal), Possessive Behavior, Stalking, Voyeurism, a tiny moment of spanking, pack as family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-15
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-01-31 08:47:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 87,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21443458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/havok2cat/pseuds/havok2cat
Summary: Omega Matthew falls hard and fast while taking care of alpha Will, the Chesapeake Ripper, at the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane. He jumps at the chance to prove himself to his alpha by killing Hannibal Lecter.Abandoned by an exonerated Will after the deed, Matthew is able to keep his job at the BSHCI but in a cruel twist of fate, is forced to take care of Hannibal, exposed as the real Ripper, in the same way he did Will.Hannibal is charming, hypnotic and when he realizes that Matthew is an omega, it's impossible for Matthew to shake the alpha's intense focus.Matthew is determined to resist the attraction he feels for Hannibal and the lingering affection he can't shake for Will.
Relationships: Matthew Brown & Abigail Hobbs, Matthew Brown/Hannibal Lecter, Matthew Brown/Will Graham, Matthew Brown/Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 99
Kudos: 292





	1. We Meet Matthew

**Author's Note:**

> The only research I did for this was to rewatch "Mukozuke" so it's gonna be fast and loose with canon. It's gonna be around 15 chapters and I have it all outlined in my notes so there is no chance that I will leave y'all hanging. Tags to be added so check those before you read each chapter!  
Thank you and I hope you enjoy!

It was laughably easy for Matthew to fool Dr. Chilton and get hired at the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane. The man swallowed his faked resume with zero suspicion, not even deigning to have someone check his references. Matthew had never worked as an orderly at those three other mental hospitals, he, in fact, had been a patient. 

Forced into the first against his will by his foster father, a punishment for being different, for being better, smarter, more aggressive than an omega should. He kicked up enough of a homicidal fuss that the esteemed institutions began bandying him back and forth until one fine summer day, with the help of an enamored psychologist, Matthew escaped. He disappeared into the streets, eventually ending up in Baltimore as a completely different person. New name, new gender, new job. 

Of course, it was easy to fool almost anyone, manipulate them subtly, make them dance to a tune that only he could hear. It was a common, widely believed, stereotype that omegas were docile, naturally submissive, too stupid to have control over their own lives. 

If that was true, Matthew was surely an exception. He wouldn't know, not having much exposure to those of his own secondary gender. 

He only knew himself and he was a predator. He was tall, aggressive and muscular. It didn't come naturally, he carefully, painstakingly cultivated his body to be stronger. It took years to get rid of most of the lingering softness that his omega nature gave him. What he couldn't exercise away, the roundness of his hips and the eye catching curves of his ass, he hid with loose clothing. 

People complained about his scent as well; petrichor and moss. He had heard more than once, by an alpha soon to be dead, that his scent was surprising, it put people off. Matthew liked his scent, he thought it suited him; understated, refreshing, and more importantly, often overlooked. Why would he want to go around smelling like a bouquet of flowers or a sugary treat? Matthew was a creature that blended into the background and he reveled in it. He was a hawk, perched on a wire or circling above, unseen by his scampering, oblivious prey, waiting to strike when it was least expected. 

Perhaps he should have been born an alpha but Matthew spent no time on 'what ifs' and 'if onlys'. He excelled at deception and it thrilled him to do so. He never missed a suppressant dose and always traveled outside of his modest ranch house with an almost tangible cloud of synthetic beta scent. It came in a nifty travel size that fit discreetly into his pocket. 

So here he was, posing as a beta and working as an orderly at BSHCI, within touching distance of the most depraved and intelligent psychopaths that Baltimore had to offer. It wasn't lost on Matthew that should anyone find out about his private life, he would most assuredly be on the opposite side of the cells here. Most of the patients here were alphas with the occasional beta. It sent an extra thrill through him, an almost sexual satisfaction. Better than sex even. Most certainly better than any sexual encounter Matthew had ever engaged in. 

It wasn't the good, hard fucking that an alpha could give him that satisfied him, it was the feel of that same alpha's blood on his skin. The hot, viscous, red river that flowed from a slit throat right before they popped their knot. The gasping, choking sounds and the knowledge that it was Matthew, a lowly omega, that ended the disgusting, unworthy alpha's life that made him come. It was never the sexual skill of an alpha that pleased him in heat but their death at his hands. Most never made it to his bedroom before he grew bored and reached for his knife.

Matthew knew by the nervous scent and shifty eyes of his co workers that his crooked smile was too intense for the conversation at hand. This meeting was a useless waste of time anyway. He picked up the printed agenda and leaned back in his uncomfortable, plastic chair. It creaked under him, derailing the person speaking for a short moment. Matthew pretended not to notice, forcing a smirk from his face. 

He ran his eyes lazily over the bold black words, looking ahead at the topics to be discussed. So horribly mundane...until his eyes found the last line and he bit the inside of his cheek so hard he tasted blood. New arrival…

He listened impatiently, keeping preternaturally still until they reached the last order of business for the staff meeting. It was rare that all of the staff was briefed on a new patient so Matthew could only assume that meant that the new arrival was going to be directly under his purview. And Matthew dealt with the worst of the worst, the murderers with the highest body count, the most sadistic methods and motives. The most interesting.

Matthew knew, even before the name left the chapped lips of his supervisor that Will Graham, the Chesapeake Ripper, was coming to BSHCI. 

***

Matthew had tracked the unfolding story of the Chesapeake Ripper with voracious glee. Every evening news story, every online article gave him a tingling thrill, a bolt of lightening down his spine, his breath catching at every leaked crime scene photo. It made him dizzy sometimes, seeing the pure art that the Ripper created. 

He felt honored, awed to see such a master’s work. How lucky was Matthew to be in the same city, to witness such beautiful work unfold so close to him? And TattleCrime was the best source to see the gorgeous displays in intimate detail, even if Freddie Lounds was an imbecile that couldn’t truly grasp the brilliance of what she witnessed. 

But Ms. Lounds had firmly entrenched herself in the middle of the Ripper case and had posted, sometimes, minute by minute updates on the case details, suspects and the eventual capture and trial of Will Graham. It made Matthew frustrated, made him rage, to read the things people said about Mr. Graham. That the alpha was deranged, sick. 

Will Graham, the Chesapeake fucking Ripper was a genius, a brilliant artist that took unworthy canvas and created something truly breathtaking. Matthew may be biased, the polished oak box under his bed full of saved and pressed snippets about the Ripper and his deeds could attest to that, but he firmly believed that Will Graham would be remembered forever by the people of Baltimore. Not for the right reasons but Matthew was content that the Ripper would be talked about, revered even, for a long time. 

It had been a small thing that had led to the arrest and conviction of Will Graham. He hadn’t been caught with a body in his trunk or at a fresh crime scene covered in blood. It had been an anonymous tip. Well, Ms. Lounds was adamant that the FBI, a man named Jack Crawford, knew exactly from whom the tip originated and she speculated at length as to the source. Matthew tended to ignore the bulk of her articles and puzzle out the hard facts, throwing away most of the outright lies with a sneer and a pleasant dark flare of his homicidal urges. He had always secretly hoped that the Ripper would make her his canvas for the vitriol she spouted. 

Mr. Graham had been arrested without a fight in his remote Wolf Trap home, surrounded by a treasure trove of evidence. Freddie Lounds had been on site, weaving in and out of the officers on the front lawn and pointing her camera at anything that moved. She documented every single second of the arrest, posting photos with abandon on her blog.  
Matthew had heard about it immediately, listening with intense focus at 1 am on his police scanner radio, bored out of his mind and hoping to hear something interesting. He had been shaking the whole time, weak with anticipation and the dizzy, invigorating feeling of someone who knew that were witnessing history. He was glued to Freddie’s blog and his eyes soaked in every detail of her posted photos, downloading onto his laptop the best ones. 

Like the photo that showed Graham in profile, his dark house on one side and the flashing police lights on the other. He had looked lost, overwhelmingly tired, handcuffed, shoulders hunched, small. An unfamiliar instinct had arisen in Matthew, seeing the powerful alpha so alone. He wanted to go to Graham, run his hands through the alpha’s hair and kiss his brow, whisper soft words and block out the world from ever touching him. 

It was shocking, unexpected, this feeling. Matthew’s interaction with alphas had always been negative and always had an underlying sexual charge, one that the alpha always brought to the table. Matthew never had to work hard to lure an alpha to him. All he had to do was go off his suppressants, stand still and inevitably, one would appear, posturing and pumping out pheromones and trying to touch Matthew without his permission. Never once had Matthew experienced a tender, gentle emotion around an alpha, around any adult human. 

Occasionally, as Matthew assumed was normal for a healthy omega of child bearing age, he would feel the urge to coo at a dog in the street, a cat in a pet store window or maybe, perhaps, a random bright eyed, smiling infant. It was just hormones, he always assured himself, it didn’t make him weak, didn’t mean he was a stereotype that he had these softer instincts, that he wanted to soothe and cradle and wrap a crying child in a warm blanket. Never had he felt those soft feelings for an alpha. 

But looking at Will Graham, in his most vulnerable moment, Matthew felt something take hold, something unfamiliar and inevitable. This unnamed feeling felt like a hook digging into his diaphragm, pulling him in a direction he couldn’t see, for a purpose he couldn’t yet discern.

***

Matthew believed that Dr. Chilton was highly intelligent but the alpha possessed a disappointing amount of arrogance. Matthew could tell that the doctor had a healthy amount of paranoia aimed at his employees and those he deemed competitors, his social and professional peers. But to Chilton, Matthew was beneath the doctor’s notice, a non threatening beta, who stayed quiet and did his job well with his head low. He always deferred to Chilton, smiled softly and kept his eyes far from the alpha’s own, a blatant sign of submission and deference. 

Dr. Chilton would smile, an amused, mocking quirk of his lips, eyes shining, head held high and scent pleased. It made Matthew clench his teeth, made his skin prickle with the almost overwhelming need to lash out, claw to idiot’s eyes out with his fingers, break open his ribs and rearrange his organs. 

But Matthew endured, as he always must, and he slowly earned Chilton’s trust in the form of the doctor ignoring his presence. It worked on most of his co workers too, turned him into a lurking, unseen ghost. As long as his work got done and none of his patients complained, Matthew was free to be invisible. It may have chafed another but to Matthew, it was highly useful. 

Like now, as Matthew withdrew the key card to Chilton’s office and opened the large grey door, slipping inside and closing it quietly. He had many keys such as this one, pressed between certain books at home, scattered seemingly randomly around his living room and bedroom. Not that he had many guests to hide them from outside of his heat. And anyone who crossed his threshold over those intense four days never left alive. But Matthew, as in all things, was meticulous, just in case. 

The office was empty, as he knew it would be. Matthew had overheard Chilton near to bragging about a dinner invitation he had received and the impressive, exclusive guest list. It made Matthew wonder what type of person voluntarily spent time with Chilton and didn’t feel like snapping his neck. 

It also made him curious to see this dinner party. Did Chilton’s peers see the alpha for the grasping, desperate creature he was or did they buy in to his haphazard attempts to seem overly cultured, worth associating with? Either way, it didn’t matter to Matthew. Chilton was gone and his office was empty, waiting for Matthew to do as he willed. 

He didn’t trespass like this often. It was easy to stop the cameras or erase the elapsed time recorded but the risk of discovery and the consequences were too much to ignore for the small things. It was imperative that Matthew keep a low profile, keep himself invisible. Should he ever invite a police presence into his life or court proceedings, his omega status would surely be revealed. 

The result would be no more job, no more owning his own home and the choice of taking an alpha mate or going back to the mental hospitals. And if his identity were discovered...the alpha kills associated with his birth name were enough to have him put away forever, no mate offered.

But this, Will Graham, was important and Matthew knew it was worth the risk. He wanted, no needed to be prepared to greet this alpha. He felt an unknowable pull to Graham. Was it because of his obsession with the Chesapeake Ripper? No, there was something else, something other that pulled at Matthew. He thought about the first time he had felt the pull, the photo on the night of the alpha’s arrest, the want to go to Graham and comfort him. 

That was months ago now and the need to reach out had not diminished. How fortuitous that the only alpha Matthew had ever felt the need to possess was the Chesapeake Ripper and would soon be his personal responsibility. It was fate, had to be and Matthew would be prepared. 

Chilton’s file on Graham was conveniently sitting on top of the alpha’s desk. Matthew wasn’t the only one looking forward to Graham’s arrival, it seemed. The file was fascinating and Matthew found himself enthralled, lounging back in Chilton’s plush office chair, his feet on the desk. Even though he had quit years ago, he ached for a cigarette. He eyed the fancy sideboard, full of pretentious looking crystal decanters and stood up to investigate. He sniffed at each one before he found one that smelled like honey and helped himself to a generous glass. 

It helped to stave off the nicotine craving and he grimaced at each sip, enjoying the burn of the alcohol that brought tears to his eyes. He sighed, satisfied and reclined once more, pulling the file closer. 

The file was a generous fount of knowledge, things that Freddie Lounds would kill to know. Every association that Graham had, every trip to the hospital, every rut and relationship laid out in bare faced, dry facts. And at the end, every psychological report on Graham, a great many done by a Dr. Hannibal Lecter. 

Matthew frowned at the name and scratched his chin. It was a familiar name, one that he was sure he had seen somewhere...on TattleCrime, maybe? He promptly forgot his vague wonderings and sat straight up, his feet hitting the floor with a jarring thud. Woven throughout all of these reports was the same two words, ‘empathy disorder’. One report in particular from Dr. Lecter, detailed Graham processing a crime scene, how the alpha was able to inhabit the mind of the killer. 

Matthew had heard of Graham’s incredible empathy in news reports and thrown around carelessly during his court case. Matthew had never given too much thought to the diagnosis, he had assumed that Graham was lying, using his ‘empathy’ at Ripper crime scenes to throw the FBI off his trail. But this report wasn’t from a Ripper victim and there were other reports in the file about Graham’s empathy from many other associates such as Dr. Alana Bloom and Jack Crawford, even previous employers. 

Matthew huffed out a laugh, feeling warm, skin buzzing. He felt like a live wire, like his body was preparing for something that was barreling towards him, something life changing, monumental. This was the most alive Matthew had felt in...forever. Will Graham kept getting more and more intriguing the more Matthew learned about the alpha.  
And as the Ripper, surely Graham would be able to handle Matthew in heat. Will wasn’t only strong, he was cunning, capable of outwitting so many and hiding among the sheep he hunted. This would be an alpha to finally make Matthew submit, to fight and win. Matthew would be able to let go, relax with an alpha like the Chesapeake Ripper. 

An alpha had never lived through Matthew’s heats, always bumbling and stupid, hands pawing, growling about making Matthew their bitch, how pretty he would look on their knot. None of the pathetic fools had lasted very long, they went down fast with his teeth around their flesh or his knife in their neck. Too shocked, maybe, to do anything but fight weakly, easily overpowered. 

At first, newly presented, Matthew’s heat had been satisfied by a good rough fuck, taking a fat knot on his hands and knees. Then, slowly, his body would demand more; more alphas, rougher treatment, blood play and pain play but nothing felt good enough. His heats would end leaving him feeling angry and itching, raging and violent for no reason, lashing out at those close to him, no matter who they were. 

It was this behavior that landed him in the first mental hospital, his foster father scared and subdued, not meeting Matthew’s livid gaze as he was handed off to uncaring professionals in white scrubs. The first week he sat, silent in his anger, glaring at any one who spoke to him, unresponsive to the doctors, hating the white walls and bland furniture. They fucked with his meds so much that he was thrown into an early heat, sequestered quickly in a dingy heat room, full of water, high protein snack bars and a large variety of knotting dildos. 

Matthew hadn’t wanted any of it, the food, the water, the fake cocks. His body yearned, mad with fever, Matthew screaming and clawing at himself with frustration, drawing blood. It hadn’t been long before the door was opening and a sickly grinning orderly had slunk in. Matthew could smell his intent, the alpha’s scent sharp with arousal, eyes blown wide, drawing in panting, open mouthed breaths. Immediately, a quiet calm had overtaken Matthew, leaving his eyes sharp, senses heightened and primed. 

The alpha had fought desperately for his life, the wounds Matthew received were near fatal, the omega clumsy with his first kill. In the end, the alpha died, gasping, body jerking violently while Matthew watched the light leave his eyes, perched on his chest. 

He had clawed his way through the alpha’s soft stomach, laid his intestines bare and rubbed every inch of his own skin in the hot, spurting blood. It felt good on his skin until it began to dry, flaking and pulling uncomfortably but he refused to shower, proud with his victory. 

Matthew didn’t remember being found, being questioned and cleaned, pumped full of drugs and left under heavy guard in the hospital. All he remembered was waking up days later, feeling a deep sense of contentment, purring audibly. His heat had been fully satisfied and he had sworn to himself then and there that no alpha would have him again without a fight. 

Was Will Graham such an alpha? 

***

It was midnight when Matthew got home after work. He pulled up in his white sedan and turned the key, sighing heavily as the car shut off, the engine clicking audibly. His small, one bedroom ranch home was off the road a ways and he had forgotten to turn on the porch light before leaving. In the darkness, a quarter mile away, through a thin layer of naked trees, Matthew could make out the neighbors lights. 

His own house was dark, uninviting, no one waited for him to return. His breath fogged in the cold night air and Matthew grabbed his lunch box and the copies of Graham’s file he had been able to make before a co worker had wandered by Chilton’s office. He had quickly placed the file back in to position on the desk and slithered out the door, careful to watch for any more stray witnesses. He had cursed himself all the way back to his post, too caught up in reading the file and not watching out for interlopers. What was it about Graham that made all things fade away? 

He set his foot on the porch step, wincing when it creaked loudly. He really needed to fix that...or not. Natural alarm system and all. His smirk quickly faded and he paused, listening to the faint rustling under the porch. A tiny, pathetic ‘mew’ sounded and Matthew blew out another exasperated breath and watched the white cloud it created swirl wildly and dissipate. The ‘mew’ sounded again and Matthew back tracked, setting the burden in his hands on the edge of the porch before dropping to his knees to shove his head under and through a hole in the rotted wood slats. 

A young looking, petite calico cat stared back at him, frozen still and unblinking. It was a familiar sight, one that had greeted him for the last three days. He knew she was heavily pregnant, had seen her belly swinging low when he caught her creeping around the yard. He had let her be, feeling no remorse for not feeding her or taking her inside, assuming, perhaps wrongly, that such a nice looking cat had an owner. But here she still was three days later, a bit dirtier, cold, hungry, begging and under Matthew’s porch.

They stared at each other for a moment before she began to shiver and when he didn’t react she spoke again. It sounded more plaintive this time to Matthew’s ears and he pushed his forehead against the edge of the porch, decision made and knowing he would regret it. 

“Hey, kitten. Why don’t you come on out? I don’t have any cat food but I’ve got some sliced lunch meat with your name on it. It reads: ‘Pudding’, no wait, ‘Sassy’, ugh that’s dumb. How about...Iris! Short, classy, a flower and a goddess.” 

The cat, Iris, apparently, had slowly begun creeping forward, belly dragging the ground, ears back and eyes still wide. Matthew made low, soothing noises and reached out his closed hand, presenting his knuckles for her to inspect. She hesitated only a moment before sniffing him. 

She stayed still as Matthew lifted his hand and when he made contact with her head, an instant change came over her. She violently arched into his palm and chirped. It made Matthew chuckle and he didn’t fight the warm affection that swept over him. 

“Damn, you’re something else, ain’t ya? Could charm a man to do anything. Well, come on, Iris, my goddess, my flower. Let’s get you warmed up, fed and ugh, a fucking bath.”

If her violent affection hadn’t endeared him to her, her rattlesnake tail sure as hell did. She shook it at him all through dinner, microwaved turkey slices and a dusty can of tuna Matthew found in the back of his pantry, unexpired. She shook her tail and talked to him as he found an old cardboard box in the garage and tore up some newspapers for litter and introduced it to her. 

She didn’t fight the bath as much as he expected and he rewarded her patience with a bit of cheddar cheese and his softest blanket. He set her up in the only bathroom and ignored her pathetic cries as he shut the door on her. 

“Relax, kitten. I don’t want fleas in my bed. You can have the run of the house tomorrow, after a trip to the vet.”

It wasn’t how he had envisioned spending his day off but getting Iris settled into his home would distract him from thinking about Graham and their impending introduction.


	2. Matthew Meets Will

Somehow, in the night, Iris had broken out of the bathroom and made her way into Matthew’s bedroom. Into his bed, onto his chest. He woke up rather abruptly to a gentle touch on his face and snapped his eyes open to see her staring at him and reaching her paw out to him. It was fucking adorable and against his will, Matthew found himself even more endeared to the creature. It wasn’t too early and he decided to rise for the day, hoping that he wasn't experiencing his future; a sleep schedule dictated by his cat. Although, considering the size of her, there might be a lot of warm, little bodies crawling into his bed soon. He couldn’t find the strength to care. 

He made a call to a few veterinarians after breakfast and found one that could get Iris in on his next day off. He had hoped for today but needs must and Matthew really needed to buy some flea shampoo. He hadn’t noticed any jumping parasites but he’d rather not have bugs all over him when his heat came. 

The next thing on his list was the pet store. He locked her back in the bathroom, still having no idea how she escaped, and headed into town. 

He was trying to decide what kind of collar to get Iris when it hit him; what the fuck was he doing, committing to a pet like this? His life was so far from secure. What would happen if he was outed as an omega? What if one day, as much as he thought it was unlikely, he met an alpha during his heat that overpowered him, killed him or bit him? If he was outed, he’d have to run and there was no guarantee that he would have time to grab a whole damn colony of cats before he fled. 

And if he was mated...there was no guarantee that his mate would let him keep the cats. And a surprise mating bite left him with no time to properly vet a potential mate. He had always recognized the risk he took in heat, finding random alphas, usually ones that pissed him off and taking them home. He was very skilled at reading people, observing them but there was always a chance that he would pick wrong, be bested when he wasn’t ready for it. Matthew was confident in his abilities but he also strove to be pragmatic.   
He sighed too loudly, standing alone in the cat food aisle. He knew why he was doing this, taking in a stray and her brood. He was fucking lonely and after so many years, it was finally starting to weigh on him. A lifetime of neglect and ostracization found him here now, starved of affection and desperate for it. How pathetic. But...Iris was his now. He was going to do right by her. 

***

The next day at work, Matthew was standing in the cold, empty parking lot, watching as the transport truck arrived and felt like he was ready to crawl out of his skin. He bounced on the balls of his feet impatiently waiting for the driver to open the back. Chilton had insisted on the full get up and the restraint mask swung from his stiff fingers. A co worker, Hank, stood next to him with a straight jacket. 

It seemed excessive to Matthew, usually new check ins were unloaded in full body cuffs and an armed guard. But he hadn’t questioned Chilton, that would have been out of his ‘character’ of a good little beta soldier. He had a feeling Chilton just wanted to make the process as humiliating as possible. That man’s ego was fucking embarrassing. 

Hank beat him to the punch, moving forward fast and jumping into the back of the vehicle when the door finally opened. It was too small for more bodies and he glared at the back of Hank’s head and barely stopped himself from crossing his arms and pouting like a child. As much as he wanted to claw Hank’s eyes out, now was not the time. Too many witnesses. Hank secured the straight jacket and turned to Matthew, holding out his hand for the mask but Matthew rolled his eyes, taking the spot of a recently descended guard to place it himself. 

Up close, Graham was breathtaking, even exhausted and gaunt, looking ready to collapse. His hair was longer than Matthew had seen in the pictures on TattleCrime and the footage on the news of him entering and exiting the courthouse. It was dark with the barest hint of silver peeking out here and there, perhaps brought out by the stress of the last few months?

And, oh, the way it curled at the ends, over his ears and falling onto his forehead. It gave the alpha a child-like air, a visual innocence that his scent fucking destroyed. It filled up the truck, the acrid tang of pine sap and woodsmoke, made Matthew’s knees go a little weak, made his head spin. There was something else to his scent, something that Matthew had never experienced. 

A depth, a darkness that he couldn’t explain. Whatever it was, it called to Matthew, confused and delighted his omega. This was it, this was what he had been waiting for, why he had fought all other lesser alphas and killed them. He had been waiting for this scent, this alpha. Even through his suppressants, Matthew felt his body respond, felt a dull ache, felt a warm ember glow in his gut. 

Only a lifetime of carefully hiding his true self away in public stopped him from whining and dropping to his knees. He wanted to press up against Graham, no, Will, his alpha, and beg, writhe. He was wet for his alpha and he hoped that his beta pheromone spray would last until he could slip away and reapply it. 

And this wasn’t even Will’s scent at full strength. All patients were required to go off of suppressants because most brands interfered with psychiatric medications. The chemical smell was still there, Matthew could sense it. In a month, when Will had completely detoxed from the suppressants, how was Matthew going to control his omega? Did he want to? 

His hands shook as he raised the mask and began strapping it on. He breathed shallow, this close to Will and shivered when his fingers brushed over the alpha’s beard. He wanted to run his hands over every dip and hollow of Will’s face, map it out and remember it forever. He tensed every muscle he could in his body. He had to get some control back from his instincts before he exposed himself.

Luckily, or not, there was no way that Will would smell him through the spray, especially with the alpha’s own suppressants reducing his sense of smell and instincts. So even though Matthew wished with all of his little omega heart that Will would scent him, realize Matthew was his omega and Command him with his Alpha Voice to release him, it wasn’t going to happen. He briefly indulged in the fantasy of releasing Will and watching how many necks his alpha could snap before falling upon his omega and ravishing him. The fantasy would have to do for now but one day... 

This close to Will, still affixing the mask, Matthew could feel the heat of him. It leached out and into Matthew, made him want to curl up in Will’s arms. He could see that his eyes were blue, even if the alpha refused to raise them, refused to meet anyone’s gaze. Matthew risked ducking his head to catch Will’s eyes only once but stopped as soon as the alpha shied away, frowning. Matthew felt the urge to beg for forgiveness, having displeased his alpha. 

He shook his head and stepped back. All of these new feelings was so overwhelming, too much, too fast. It would be much easier if Will reciprocated, could smell that Matthew was his omega and comfort him but Matthew was nothing if not patient. He couldn’t risk revealing his omega status too soon. Now that he had imprinted on Will, seen the alpha as his, smelled that Will was extremely compatible, he had to plan everything carefully. 

First, he had to wait until Will was fully off his suppressants, wait for his instincts to be primed and ready for his omega. Matthew couldn’t risk rejection, couldn’t risk that Will would be able to fight their bond. 

It was rare but there was always the possibility of an unreciprocated scent bond, usually to the detriment of the omega. Either the alpha grew angry at the omega for not sensing the bond or the alpha felt threatened by the omega pushing for an unrequited bond. In both cases, the alpha usually lashed out, killing the omega. Matthew didn’t think that their bond would be one sided. Surely, Will would feel it too, the deep sense of belonging that Matthew felt.

Second, if, no, when, Will declared Matthew his omega mate, they sure as hell couldn’t let Will stay locked up. And when they were mated, Matthew couldn’t stay living as a beta. Well, technically he could but he found he didn’t want to. He wanted to feel everything that Will made him feel to its fullest extent. He had never hated being an omega, only hated what society expected from him. 

Maybe, he could truly be himself with Will as his mate. Matthew knew the BSHCI inside and out, up and down. It sounded arrogant, even to his mind, but getting Will out of here would be easy. He just needed to make sure Will wanted him forever and that they had somewhere to go. That last step was the hard part. Where the hell could they go?  
All of this ran through his mind, all of these plans and they hadn’t even made it to Will’s cell and his alpha hadn’t even acknowledged his existence. It was good to plan ahead but he had to play the beginning just right, had to get Will where he wanted him. Hopefully, biology would do the heavy lifting for Matthew. 

He couldn’t help but constantly stare at the back of Will’s head, couldn’t stop himself from leaning slightly into the alpha’s space and taking a deep breath, chasing his dark, woodsy scent. The sweet and smoky smell of his one and only. He was still wet for his alpha, his scrub top chafing his sensitive nipples. He wants, he wants but he must be patient, must think to the future. 

They arrived at a standard cell for the block; the best of the best. Or according to anyone else; the worst of the worst. It was where Matthew spent most of his shifts, looking out for and taking care of the most violent alpha patients. Mostly, it involved a lot of caretaking that annoyed everyone else but to Matthew, it offered power and control. He had a general schedule but the day to day small things were at his whims and to piss him off meant losing privileges at Matthew’s discretion. As long as he didn’t step on Chilton’s toes, the alpha doctor kept his nose out of Matthew’s affairs. It wasn’t much and Matthew had never planned on staying here permanently but he enjoyed the job, for now. 

Matthew and two guards followed Will into the cell and as Matthew turned to unbuckle the alpha’s restraints, he noticed Chilton on the other side of the floor to ceiling glass window, looking smug, hands folded on top of his cane. Will looked at the doctor but his blank expression didn’t change, eyes dead, body pliant as Matthew worked. A hot rage sparked in Matthew but he kept his face still. Will, his strong, virile alpha, reduced to this shell of a man. 

Where was his fire? His grace? It was hard to see the Chesapeake Ripper in the alpha before him, hard to imagine how the Ripper could be so beaten down. Despite his frustration, Matthew stayed loyal in his mind, refused to think unkind thoughts about his alpha, even seeing him brought so low. Wasn’t his job as Will’s mate to raise him up and be supported in return? Maybe. It wasn’t like Matthew had great role models to aspire to when it came to alpha and omega relationships. He was stumbling around in the dark. 

Chilton had begun to gloat, throwing nasty, barely veiled insults at Will but other than a slight stiffening of his shoulders, Will gave no sign that he was listening. It furthered Matthew’s resolve and he swore silently to himself that he would help Will get better. He would nurture his alpha and see him return to the dark, ravening beast he sensed was lurking just below the bland surface. 

Chilton, angered at Matthew’s lingering, ordered him away and Matthew smiled before obeying, taking the straight jacket and mask with him. He passed behind Chilton, resisting the urge to bash the posturing alpha’s head into the glass, give his alpha a bloody show for mocking Will. He flicked his gaze over Chilton’s shoulder at the same time that Will did. Their eyes met briefly before Will looked away, just a quick joining, the smallest connection and Matthew almost tripped over his own feet.

Neither Chilton nor Will noticed him leave, sent fleeing from his alpha in a near panic. He rounded the corner in the hallway and leaned heavily against the wall, safe from prying eyes and cameras, breathing heavily. Will contained whole worlds, infinite galaxies in his gaze. It touched a part of Matthew, deep inside that he never knew existed. And his eyes, oh, his eyes, so blue, so blue, so blue. 

*** 

The next month was as exciting to Matthew as it was torturous. On shift, Matthew was Will’s primary touch stone, from breakfast to lights out and sometimes overnight. He picked up overtime shifts, making annoying promises and collecting favors from his coworkers for doing so. It was worth the next to no sleep and minimal time to relax to be with Will every spare moment. He learned a lot. 

Will loved the chocolate pudding that they served, sometimes that was all the alpha ate for a meal and when Matthew could manage it, Will got double servings. The only indication that Will noticed was when Matthew handed the first extra pudding cup to Will and the alpha paused in taking the tray to flick his beautiful eyes up to Matthew’s. It was a mere second, less contact than even the first time, giving Matthew no time to react but it felt like permission. 

Matthew had poured over the reports written by Dr Lecter over and over and he knew that Will made eye contact only when it was unavoidable or particularly advantageous. It was a gift, one that Matthew was sure that Will had given with intent. He took the gesture, the second in as many days, as permission to spoil his alpha, to prove himself a good, nurturing caretaker. 

He allowed Will to have everything he asked for; books, pens, paper. He noticed that Will liked the mint shampoo and hated the flowery lotions and adjusted the alpha’s shower necessities to reflect that. He took his own repayment from the alpha during those shower times, he felt he was owed this small thing. 

When he could go unnoticed, he would watch Will undress and shower. He never touched himself but his eyes took in every detail they could. Will was fit, strong, liberally covered in dark hair. The dense, toned muscles were a little surprising. The alpha hid as Matthew did, behind bulky, functional clothes and bland smiles. Matthew hid to keep his way of life, why did Will hide? Did he hate attention, hate being noticed? Matthew was invisible to survive. Why was Will invisible?

The alpha despised the bright lights in the facility and would go still if anyone other than Matthew was near him. He seemed to have grown used to Matthew’s presence and acted normally around the omega. It was a far cry from what Matthew had expected. He had braced himself to be ignored as most of the worker bees around this place were. But each time Matthew approached Will, the alpha tracked him, turning so that Matthew was never at his back, tense and watching. 

Did Will sense in some way, deep down that Matthew was his? Or did he perceive Matthew as a threat? The latter, while hurtful, was a possibility. Matthew held a good amount of power over Will while the alpha was stuck inside the BSHCI. What would it take to earn Will’s trust? Time and exposure? Something bigger? 

Every time Matthew presented Will with an item for his comfort or changed the alpha’s environment to better reflect his preferences, Will would pause, go still. After a moment he would seem to gather his mental strength and give Matthew what he wanted, craved; the slightest amount of eye contact. Every time it happened, it felt like a punch in the gut and he wanted to reciprocate, wanted to fall to his knees and crawl to his alpha, wanted to tilt his head in submission. But he couldn’t, not yet, there were too many eyes, always watching. 

***

Will spoke to Matthew on the fourth day. Their first conversation and it took Matthew by complete surprise, seeming to come from nowhere. He had expected it to take longer for Will to trust him but maybe all of his obvious overtures had made an impression. Matthew was doing a cell check, an armed guard outside of the glass window and he had made sure to turn the speaker off. The guard wouldn’t be able to hear them, just in case. The guard was watching them though, glaring at Will, hand on his weapon. 

He glanced at Will from under his lashes then turned away to search the alpha’s bedding haphazardly, looking for anything suspicious. Will sneered at the guard before turning his back, his hands grasping each other behind his lower back. He stared at the blank wall next to Matthew and licked his dry lips. Matthew followed the motion hungrily, wishing he could feel his alpha’s mouth on his skin. Those lips quirked into a mocking smirk and Matthew jumped, his eyes flicking up to take in the rest of Will’s face. So Will caught his slip, the hunger in his gaze. 

Matthew felt his face heat, knew he was blushing and he turned his face to the side, eyes back to where he was searching the bed. Damn, he needed to be less obvious in his desperate interest in Will. He wasn’t used to the people around him being so observant, he needed to be more careful. No alpha wanted a needy omega. Or did they? Would Will be flattered by his instant admiration or would he pity Matthew. He had no idea but he felt embarrassed. This would all be so much easier once Will was off his suppressants and Matthew could expose his own scent in some way, gauge the alpha’s reaction. 

He was so in his head that Will’s voice shocked him into stillness. He had never heard the alpha speak outside of the occasional clip on television during the trial. 

“Matthew.”

He gasped and stilled, a hand in Will’s pillowcase. Will’s voice was deeper than he had expected, his tone rich. It felt like a caress, the way Will’s tongue slipped around the vowels and consonants of his name. Hearing it was like slipping into a warm bath or maybe the euphoria of a spray of thick blood coating Matthew’s skin. So many conflicting instincts were warring inside of Matthew and he was thankful that he was still on his suppressants. He would have not been able to stop himself from slipping to his knees in front of Will otherwise. 

“Matthew.”

Matthew swallowed a whine and continued his search after casting another glance at Will. The alpha was in profile, still and staring at the wall. They were faced away from the guard, the fact that they were talking hidden. He recovered and gave a smirk of his own at the disordered pile of books he was paging through next to the bed, trying to emulate Will’s drawling lilt without being too offensive. 

“Will Graham. I wasn’t aware that you knew my name.”

He saw Will’s smirk widen, the alpha’s longer canines showing. It made Matthew shiver. He knew Will’s full attention was on him, knew that he was being too obvious. He couldn’t hide himself away from his alpha, it felt impossible. His inner omega wanted his alpha to know how much Will was desired, wanted to entice the alpha closer. Apparently, being a total slut for Will was in his DNA. Will chuckled darkly. 

“Oh, I know a lot about you.”

The words held so much dark promise that Matthew almost dropped the book in his hands. He was shaking. He cursed mentally. He wasn’t sure if he liked Will having so much power over him, now that he had experienced a little taste of it. It was terrifying and exciting. He cleared his throat. 

“That’s...Do I want to ask how you know things about me?”

Will’s hands tightened behind his back, knuckles going white. Matthew wanted those hands around his throat. 

“Don’t worry, I can’t read your mind or anything.”

Matthew hummed, hoping that Will couldn’t hear the sound of his heart beating wildly. 

“You’ve been watching me.”

Will inclined his head, a small, slow movement.

“Just like you have been watching me, Matthew.” 

That invisible hook in his chest yanked every time Will said his name. His knees felt weak and he fumbled a response, thinking too hard on his words, how vulnerable they would make him, how Will would perceive him. Will was still, waiting. 

“It’s my job to watch you, make sure you’re being a good little boy.”

Will huffed a laugh, eyes crinkling. It looked genuine this time, in a way that his earlier laugh had not been. That dark chuckle had been a careful calculation, made to draw Matthew in. This laugh seemed to be pulled from the alpha against his will. Matthew preened a little, proud of himself for pleasing his alpha. Will noticed and his face changed to a carefully tailored seductive smirk. Now that Matthew had seen a real emotion on Will’s face, it was easy to spot the mask. 

It didn’t seem like Will knew that because he continued his manipulation. Matthew was an expert with manipulation. The only choice now was to allow Will whatever it was he wanted or to resist the alpha. Well, it wasn’t like it was a real choice, he had a hard time believing he wouldn’t give Will anything he asked for. But...Will didn’t need to know that. Not yet. The next words out of Will’s mouth were more than worth keeping the knowledge to himself. 

“Oh, no. I rather think it’s you who wants to be my good boy.”

It felt like an ice cube ran down his spin and he dropped the book in his hand. He closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. He risked a glance at the alpha to see him smiling smugly, pleased with his clever little win. If only Will knew that he was playing with fire, that they were destined to be mates. Would he tease then? Or would he be as wild as Matthew felt in that moment? 

“No.”

Yes, oh, god, yes. 

Will tilted his head, still in profile and pursed his lips.

“You’re lying but I’ll let it go...this time.”

This time, this time...Would Will want to punish him for lying next time? Would his alpha take him in hand and make sure he never disobeyed again? The potential in Will’s posture was delicious and Matthew felt ready to combust. 

“I won’t punish you for lying to me if you do something for me. A little favor, to make it up to me.”

Matthew took another deep breath and crossed behind Will, briefly going out of his range of sight. It made the alpha’s shoulders tense and sent a thrill through Matthew. Will hadn’t turned to watch him, had let Matthew be at his back, see him vulnerable. 

“It must be quite the favor. I admit I’m curious.”

He circled around Will and in front of him, sorting through the papers on Will’s desk. He was directly in Will’s line of sight. He could feel the laser like focus of Will’s eyes on the back of his neck. 

“Let us not discuss it here.”

Matthew turned his head to take in the alpha, making sure Will’s body blocked his own from the watching guard. 

“Somewhere more private? Where did you have in mind?”

Will shook his head, lips quirked, his gaze on Matthew’s chin, watching his lips move. 

“You know where. The only place we can be alone. The only place where no one can see your greedy eyes on me.”

Matthew stared, refusing to feel ashamed. Of course Will had seen Matthew watching him in the showers. He was more observant than Matthew had given him credit for. He nodded. 

“Alright, tonight I’ll escort you to the showers. Alone.”

*** 

Will followed closely behind Matthew into the showers, as if Matthew would change his mind and force the alpha back to his cell. Matthew had timed it perfectly to avoid all witnesses; shift change. Everyone else was too busy to pay close attention and it helped that his coworkers were used to ignoring competent, quiet Matthew. 

Will was a wall of heat at his back and it made his hair stand on end. Even beaten down, bested by circumstance as the alpha was, he was still powerful and obviously desperate. What was so overwhelmingly important that Will was willing to lure Matthew in, trust a stranger, ostensibly an enemy, working for his captor? 

Matthew assumed it was a mission for the outside world, a contact? One that could help him escape? It made Matthew swell with pride. Even not knowing that Matthew was his omega, Will sensed that Matthew was special, worthy, even if the alpha didn’t consciously realize it. 

He turned once they reached the benches not far from the showers. It was set up like a gym locker room, shelving and benches on one side, blue and white tile floor to ceiling, drains and five shower heads on the other. Nothing to obscure vision in the room, no where a patient could hide. They were lacking the two armed guards that usually took up post on either side of the open door.

On a normal day with Will, Matthew would sit on the farthest bench and pretend to not stare as Will showered. He would pretend to be bored, uninterested. Then he would wait for Will to be preoccupied and make as many furtive glances as possible. Apparently, he hadn’t been half as subtle as he had believed. He hovered by that same bench, expecting them to sit, talk or maybe Will would pace and speak to him. Will seemed like the kind of man who moved to gather his thoughts. 

Will did neither; the alpha started to strip. His white top went first with no hesitation, Will facing Matthew head on, close, too close. He could feel the air being displaced as Will moved, taking off his white undershirt next. The alpha didn’t bother folding his clothes, just let them fall from limp fingers to the floor between them, the soft material landing on Matthew’s shoes. 

Will paused, fingers curling around the ties to his pants and tilted his head, smirking at Matthew, eyes on his forehead. Matthew’s mouth fell open and the omega was taking deep breaths of the air, chasing Will’s smokey scent without realizing it, the tang of pine sap scalding the back of his throat with each heavy swallow. It felt impossible to think coherently, to rationalize Will’s actions, his clear machination. 

Matthew tensed, closing his hands into fists, digging his nails into his palms hard enough to split the skin. It helped to clear his pheromone fogged mind. This wasn’t real, Will wasn’t doing this for Matthew. It was unlikely that an alpha like Will, strong, violent, virile would choose Matthew the beta, the orderly. Matthew the omega, the heat violent murderer had an edge, something unique to a man like the Ripper. So this had to be about the favor Will wanted, not about Will’s nonexistent desire for Matthew. Will’s voice brought him out of his spiraling thoughts. 

“Is this not what you wanted?”

At Matthew’s continued silence, Will placed his hand flat against his stomach. The muscles tensed under the touch and Will hummed, slowly feeling his way up, following the line of dark hair, fingers gently tracing the dips and hollows of his chest and then his throat. He lengthened his neck, showing it off, pale and buttery soft, supple. There was no one Matthew wouldn’t kill to feel that skin under his teeth. 

He cleared his throat, wishing he was off his suppressants so that he could affect Will the way the alpha affected him, wishing Will could smell what he was doing to his omega. The will to win, be smarter, faster, stronger than an alpha was battling against the want to please his alpha, submit and be protected, worshiped, made to kneel and serve. 

“I-I’m just surprised. You’ve never done this for me before.”

Will chuckled, dropping his hand to caress his nipples, one then the other. They puckered as Matthew watched and Will shivered, goosebumps raising on his chest. He was captivating. 

“We both know you never needed a huge production to watch me, to covet…but now, this is for you, part of your reward.”

Will paused and met his eyes, holding his gaze for an extended moment. It made Matthew’s throat constrict, made him feel as if his tongue were swelling, trying to suffocate him. He felt so hot, burning, set aflame and content to die that way, under Will’s gaze, following his whims, wherever they went. 

Fuck. Was this what all omega’s felt for their mates? No wonder they were so abused by society. It was hard to fight this pull to Will, to keep his mind. Matthew had to fight this. He couldn’t trust Will yet, the alpha was more likely to drag him down and leave him to die than raise him up as an equal. 

“Right my reward, for doing you a favor. And that favor was?”

Will smirked again, working the ties loose of his pants and letting them drop. He stepped out of them, carelessly kicking them away and Matthew could see the hard outline of Will’s erection, knot and all through his underwear. Will cupped his balls, squeezing and threw his head back with a grunt. His other hand dropped from his nipples and circled his knot, rotating and rubbing it, encouraging it to swell. Matthew’s mouth flooded with saliva, he wanted to taste Will in that moment more than anything, more than he wanted to keep breathing. 

Even watching Will perform for him, the thought that aroused him the most was that Will knew exactly how to affect him, knew what to say and what to do to make Matthew completely pliable. Was this his empathy at work? Had Will looked into his eyes and subsequently, his soul? The thought that Will knew him, knew how to mould him and guide him to maximum effect was heady. It was an impressive skill, one that Matthew was jealous of and he admired the deftness with which Will applied it. A true master. 

It was also frightening. How much had Will seen? Did he guess that Matthew was an omega? He couldn’t have. If he had the alpha would be playing a more dominant role, slowly coaxing Matthew to submit or forcing him to, hard and rough. Either thought had its appeal. 

So, from what Matthew could see, Will thought him a beta who lusted after an alpha. A man with little to no natural submission who could be manipulated by sex to do favors for Will. Okay, Matthew could play to that...for now. Until Will was good and ready for Matthew to reveal his true nature. 

Matthew forced his body to release its tension, forced a smirk onto his face in answer to Will’s. He would pretend that this wasn’t life altering, pretend that this was nothing, a simple exchange where both parties benefited. And it would give Matthew insight into how Will liked to be touched. That pleased his inner omega immensely, his alpha was teaching him how to touch his mate. 

Will removed his underwear, pushing them slowly down his legs. Like most alphas, Will’s cock was large but his knot, god, it was the biggest Matthew had ever seen and it wasn’t done growing. The thought of it inside of Matthew, stretching him wide made his head go a little fuzzy, made his hole clench, growing wet. He wouldn’t slick enough to soak his clothes, enough to be noticed and scented, not on his suppressants but it would be enough to comfortably finger himself. 

How he wished he could touch himself but that was not what this was. This wasn’t about passion and mutual release, it was about Will getting what he wanted, from a man who held enough power over him to be dangerous. 

Will ran his hand up his shaft, circled the head and ran his thumb over the slit. Matthew watched in awe as Will spread the faint shine of liquid he gathered and then ran his hand down and then up again in a smooth, slick glide. Will was leaking so much, more turned on than Matthew had expected. Will’s eyes flickered open and he looked at Matthew from under his eyelashes before crooking a finger at him and moving back. 

“Come closer, Matthew. We can talk about my favor after I knot my fist.”

Matthew stumbled forward, coming to stand at the edge of the showers as Will stood under the closest head and turned the water on, body angled to face the omega. He felt awkward, standing there, fully clothed, watching with wide eyes, panting. Will closed his eyes, tipping his head back under the spray of hot water, hands still working his cock.   
He was slow with it, so gentle that Matthew wished with violent zeal that the alpha was touching him like that. After a few moments of soft stroking, Will set his nails to his chest and stomach, digging in and raking the skin. Matthew held his breath, captivated as red welts began to rise. Will was panting and groaning, his abdomen undulating wildly.   
The contrast of gentle and rough was too much for Matthew and he moved his hand to his own cock, straining against his grey scrub pants, leaking copiously, aching fiercely. His eyes went half lidded but he didn’t close them, wanting to watch every move Will made, afraid to miss even a second. 

“Stop.”

Matthew startled, eyes flying wide, stopping the slow creep his hand, barely daring to breathe. Will had stilled his own hands and was staring at Matthew with intense focus. His eyes were blazing with savage command and Matthew was helpless but to obey. Will stalked forward, heavy cock bouncing, shoulder drawn back. He only had an inch of height on Matthew but his intimidating presence made him seem so much larger than the omega. Will came to stand close to Matthew, almost but not touching and leaned in, nostrils flaring. 

Matthew had a moment of panic. Had Will smelled through his beta spray? But the alpha’s body language didn’t change, he didn’t growl and grab at Matthew, only stood there, keeping his gaze until Matthew felt his muscles loosen and he broke their stare to look at the Will’s chin. He stopped himself from baring his throat but he wanted to. So badly but Will wasn’t acting as his alpha and he would not submit to him for anything less. 

Will grinned, long canines flashing in the bright fluorescent lights and Matthew shuddered, feeling the phantom touch of them on his bonding glands. 

“Good boy. You are not allowed to touch yourself, Matthew. Not this time.”

Matthew caught his breath and nodded, clenching the bottom of his scrub shirt in his trembling hands to keep from reaching out to Will. The alpha was so close, body wet and cock still hard. Will’s scent took a turn at Matthew’s obedience, turning sweeter, pleased. Will groaned and stroked himself again, hot breath hitting Matthew’s face, jaw clenching. Matthew’s eyes fluttered shut at the sound and Will growled, the sound rattling through Matthew’s chest, making his heart skip a beat. 

“Look at me, beta.”

The misgendering shocked him out of the moment and his eyes flew open to meet Will’s. Will hummed, pleased and unaware of the turmoil inside of Matthew. It was a good thing, really, to remind him what this truly was. A transaction, even if Matthew burned for it to be more. He would endure this, keep it safe and revisit it often until he could have the real thing, until his alpha claimed him. 

Will didn’t hold his gaze long, retreating back to the water when Matthew stayed still, eyes riveted. He was using both hands now to work himself, canines digging into his bottom lip so hard that the flesh split, clean and even. Matthew could see it clearly in his mind, Will taking down his prey with gnashing teeth, ripping the skin and muscle of its throat in one graceful, feral move. He was powerful enough to immobilize said prey, hold them down and rend them viciously. 

It was so at odds with the Ripper kills that it gave Matthew a moment of pause before it was derailed by the gorgeous sight of Will’s orgasm. He was loud about it, groaning and growling lowly, one hand squeezing his knot while the other worked his shaft, thumbnail digging into the slit on each pass, hips stuttering as he fucked forward. His release splashed upon the cold tile floor and Matthew’s inner omega howled in agony at the waste, wanting it deep inside of him, pumping hotly into his womb. 

Matthew kept still as Will finished in the shower, dried and redressed. He was caught, afraid to move, every tiny shift made his pants chafe against his straining cock. Will came to stand before him, hands in his pockets, shoulders hunched and eyes on the floor. 

“Was that as good for you as it was for me?”

The words rang hollow to Matthew’s ears and for the first time as an adult, Matthew wanted to cry. The alpha wasn’t even trying to keep the facade now, one that Matthew didn’t realize how much he appreciated until it was gone, like a rug ripped out from under him. 

He turned abruptly, eyes feeling wet, chest straining against an unbearable tightening. He only noticed at the door that Will hadn’t moved to follow. He half turned to look back, seeing Will standing where he left him, shoulders a bit more hunched, face blank. He looked vulnerable, exhausted. Surely, it was an act, meant to draw Matthew in closer for some mysterious purpose. But if it wasn’t… Matthew swallowed thickly, his voice coming out with more seriousness than he intended.

“You were beautiful, Will. Thank You.”

He couldn’t bring himself to look at Will as he led him back to the cell. He didn’t want to see the callous triumph on the alpha’s face. This was spinning so quickly out of Matthew’s hands. He was supposed to take care of his alpha, provide and prove himself and then in a few weeks time, when Will’s hormones were free of synthetic chemicals, when he could scent and bond with him, Matthew would reveal his true nature and the fact that he had scent bonded with Will already. 

Will would recognize his omega and welcome Matthew with open arms. Matthew was so focused on the future he wanted that he failed to consider the future he didn’t. The future where he didn’t have Will, where Will rejected his claim. Dammit, Matthew was so fucked up inside, so in his head that he was going to ruin this. This was all so new and for the first time, he was truly frightened. It wasn’t like Matthew to be so insecure, so hesitant. 

He walked Will into the cell and uncuffed him. He turned to exit but a tight hand, Will’s, on his wrist stopped him. It was the first time Will had touched him and it sent his heart pounding, pulse fluttering under Will’s unforgiving fingers. Will didn’t speak right away, just pulled on Matthew’s arm, bringing him closer as Matthew turned back. The alpha’s eyes were ringed with red. 

“Don’t forget my favor, Matthew.”

Matthew smirked, twisting out of Will’s hold. The alpha let him go immediately, seeming relieved to not be touching him. 

“Of course, Will. Tit for tat and all that.”

Will pursed his lips, looking amused at the sing song quality in Matthew’s voice. He shook his head and walked over to his desk, opening the middle drawer and pulling out an envelope. He reached for Matthew’s hand and raised it, placing the letter gently into his palm. 

“Deliver this for me.”

His voice turned hard, an alpha command hovering on the edges of the words but not descending. He probably thought it useless to try, it was rare for a beta to respond to it. More fool he. 

“I don’t want you to read it. Don’t fuck with it, don’t open it and deliver it promtly but remain unseen. The recipient can’t see you or be able to recognize you later. That’s for your protection more than it is mine.”

Matthew adopted a faux touched expression and pressed the letter over his heart. 

“Aww. It’s almost like you care about me.”

“I do-”

Matthew laughed, loud and cutting. Will’s mouth snapped shut and he looked up, taken aback. Matthew leaned closer, as if to impart a secret. 

“Don’t fucking patronize me, Will. I know what this is. What just happened, that meant nothing to you. I’ll deliver this letter because I want to see what will happen. I’m just burning with anticipation at how your schemes will turn out.”

Matthew leaned back and pitched his voice low, shooting for ‘television announcer’. 

“What does fate have in store for our intrepid hero? How can he get out of this harrowing situation? Be sure to turn in next week to find out!”

Matthew watched as Will’s expression turned contemplative, amused and then slightly awed the more Matthew talked. The changes in his face were subtle and maybe the casual observer would have missed them but Matthew was Will’s fated mate. Whether Will came to appreciate it or not, Matthew could read him like an open book. 

“You just...want to watch what happens?”

Matthew shrugged. 

“Hey, don’t get me wrong, I’m firmly in your corner, rooting for you to win. And the show you gave? Wow. Ten out of ten. Hot damn, daddy, smack me around-”

Will blushed and slapped his hand over Matthew’s mouth. 

“Okay, okay I get it. I don’t trust you. I may never trust you but it’s...nice of you to say you’re rooting for me. Fucking no one else is.”

Matthew smiled under Will’s hand, chest feeling warm. He took Will’s wrist in his hand and squeezed it gently before pulling it away. He waved the letter at Will before squinting at it. 

“Don’t you worry, Will. I’ll get this letter to...Beverly Katz post haste.”

He saluted Will before leaving and locking the cell door. He passed the guards in the hall, coming through for a wellness sweep and gave them a nod. He whistled the whole way home.


	3. Matthew Gets to Know Will Better

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to clarify: in this world suppressants dim the natural scent of an alpha or Omega. Matthew wears the beta spray to completely mask the rest of his scent. Without the spray, a scent sensitive a/o can smell Matthew.

Matthew shouldn’t have been so surprised that the recipient of Will’s letter was in the FBI. He knew Will had consulted for them before his arrest and conviction. It was public knowledge that it was Jack Crawford, head of the BAU and seeming personal friend of Will’s that had brought him in. Fuck, it was probably this Katz’s job to process Will’s Wolf Trap home, bag and tag the blood and fiber evidence of the recent Ripper victims within said home that made Will’s conviction a slam dunk. What the hell did Will want from his friend turned enemy? 

As much as Matthew burned to speak to Beverly Katz himself, use his natural omega charm to dig for information, there was another, louder part of Matthew that wanted to please his alpha. Will, who had expressed concern for his well being, wanted him to keep his distance from Katz. Even suspecting it was empty platitudes, Matthew’s inner omega still reveled in the attention. It had grown progressively worse, this need to please Will, as the alpha’s suppressants wore off. Being around Will was exquisite torture for Matthew, having his alpha so close yet untouchable.

It still felt like the wrong moment to reveal himself as an omega and Will’s mate. He was scared of rejection. Will was the fucking Chesapeake Ripper, an artist, a prime alpha, ultimate protector. What if he found Matthew lacking? The omega was not on the same level that the Ripper was.

Matthew killed weak alphas, ones too stupid to survive his heat. With a good lawyer, in the right state, Matthew could get off with a slap on the wrist for killing one or two alphas. Heat violence, they called it. In the eyes of the law, Matthew would be seen as under the influence of his instincts. With counselling and ‘proper support’ (an omega home) Matthew would be able to live in society with little to no stigma. But...the higher that kill count went, the harder it was to prove that Matthew wasn’t in his right mind. The point being, although Matthew hated not being more useful for Will with whatever he was planning, it was a good idea to keep a low profile. Especially, when stalking the FBI. 

Beverly Katz was a stunning alpha. Smart, cunning, beautiful and full of compassion. If Matthew believed for a second that she could make him submit during his heat, he’d be falling all over himself to get her attention. Before he met Will, of course. 

He watched her for a few days to get a feel for her schedule. He could easily have dropped the letter with a fresh stamp in her mailbox and they could all pretend that it had been mailed from the hospital. But watching her, Matthew knew that she was too smart for that ruse. She would fully process the letter, looking for fingerprints and any other fancy evidence the feds could find. 

So, he decided to have a little fun, flex some metaphorical muscles that were a little atrophied. His stalking had gone smoothly so far, time for some breaking and entering. Katz had lunch every day with some coworkers at a bustling cafe two blocks from their work building. It was easy to blend in with the teeming crowd and grab her leather bag. He sat across the street at a restaurant, keeping an eye on her and rifling through the bag. Laptop, wallet, keys and, oh? an extra house key in the side pocket? Perfect. No one noticed when he replaced the bag. 

The next morning he had forgone his beta spray, not wanting to leave behind a cloud of synthetic scent that could be detected. His omega scent was almost gone with the use of his suppressants but a nose sensitive alpha would still be able to smell him. He had no idea if Katz was one such alpha but he decided to risk it. If she did notice the intrusion and smelled an omega, it certainly would never get back to Matthew Brown, the beta. 

The condo was nice, in a good neighborhood so Matthew walked four blocks to it, leaving his cheap, old as shit car parked somewhere less expensive. He dressed nice, button up and dress pants, hair slicked back. ‘Wealthy white man’ was always the best disguise in these places and he received no second glances, even when he ducked behind the condo building into the alley. A week of observation provided his in, no one paid close attention to the coded back door when they took their garbage out. He grabbed a garbage bag off the ground, likely left by a too lazy resident and stood, frozen, one hand on the door to the trash compactor and one hand holding the trash. 

Movement caught his eye then the clicking sound of electronic locks disengaging and Matthew moved. He flung the bag into the compactor and ducked around the person leaving with their own burden to catch the door to the building before it closed. The person paid him no mind. Katz lived on the second floor and her door was around a corner in the hallway, out of sight of the other residents. The key fit, the door swung open silently and Matthew was hit with a blast of lemons and sugar with a spicy undertone that was all alpha. He took a deep breath, feeling cleansed, his shoulders relaxing. 

He stepped inside, shutting and locking the door quietly. The space was cozy, all brown leather and dark blue, plush and tasteful. He poked around for a few minutes, not finding anything interesting before he opened the last unexplored door to find an office. It was in complete disarray, papers strewn everywhere and two smothered corkboards off to the side. He carefully approached the desk. It was covered in official looking folders. Matthew flipped one over to see the seal of the FBI before opening it again to read.  
It was about Will and his Ripper kills. Matthew frowned and looked around again. Everything in the room was about Will, every case he had consulted for, his own file as the Ripper. What was Katz doing? Surely, it had been long enough since Will’s arrest and conviction that Katz should have moved on. This pointed to an open investigation, or a personal vendetta. He made sure the papers were back in their original positions before walking over to the cork boards. 

It definitely looked like something out of a crime novel or tv show. There were profile pictures tacked up, Will being the center of it all and lines of different colored string connecting the people. Only one other person had as many connections as Will; Dr Hannibal Lecter. There were post it notes with some kind of shorthand all over the board that Matthew couldn’t decipher. What did all this shit mean? Who the fuck was Hannibal Lecter and why was he always surfacing around Will?

Matthew shook his head and stepped back, reaching into his back pocket. He smoothed out the letter and felt a warmth in his chest as he placed it on the desk, on top of all the papers. He hadn’t read it, just as Will commanded and it felt good to follow his alphas orders. He felt proud too, being useful. Hopefully, this would bring Matthew closer to earning Will’s trust and maybe one day...his love. 

***

That night, Matthew had to call off work to rush Iris to the emergency vet office. She gave birth to five kittens but three were stillborn, likely due to malnutrition before Matthew took her in. Looking at the still little bodies, he felt sad and...powerful. The two living kittens, both black, were nursing with Iris and he watched them for a long time. Iris chirped at him, seeming proud of herself and oblivious to the lost ones. 

These tiny, helpless creatures were Matthew’s. His to protect or his to punish, to nurture or neglect. He had planned on finding homes for the kittens but in that moment, he decided to keep them. 

***

Being mostly invisible allowed Matthew to cultivate many skills, including lip reading. It only took two days for Katz to come storming into the BSHCI to visit Will. Matthew met her in the lobby and walked her back, citing the visitation rules as he led her to the interview rooms. She was quiet, not responding to his speech other than a strained smile before she entered the room. Someone else had brought Will in, sat him in the plastic chair and handcuffed him to the table. 

Matthew hadn’t been able to speak to Will since completing the alpha’s mission. Between settling Iris and the two kittens at home and training a new hire, Matthew had been too busy to see Will. Frank had been handling the alpha’s day to day until Matthew’s schedule was free and the whole situation burned like acid. Matthew should be the only one taking care of his alpha, not fucking Frank. 

It was very lucky that Matthew was back on Will duty now and able to watch this mysterious meeting between Katz and Will. Matthew stood outside the glass windows of the meeting room, able to only catch half of what they were saying. The angle was awkward for his lip reading abilities but he knew how his alpha spoke, the minute shape his lips and tongue took as he communicated. He missed most of Katz’s speech but he picked up enough highlights. 

They were speaking of the mysterious Lecter again. Matthew felt a surge of white hot jealousy at the look on Will’s face every time he spoke of Lecter. It was a pained look, an enraged one but Matthew could see deeper. Maybe it was the scent bond, maybe Matthew was so attuned to Will that the omega could see the barely restrained respect and unwilling fascination the alpha had for Lecter. His body language hinted at a complicated history, a...romantic history? Fuck, was Will and this Lecter mated? Will didn’t smell mated and if the two were so close, where the fuck had Lecter been this whole time? Certainly not sniffing around the BSHCI. 

Matthew’s thoughts were derailed abruptly as Will leaned forward and adopted an intensely serious expression. Katz looked hesitant but she leaned forward as well, her face becoming more and more incredulous as Will started speaking of the Chesapeake Ripper. Dammit, Matthew hadn’t had time to bug the interview room before Will arrived. He shifted to the side, putting Will squarely in his line of vision. 

Will was speaking fast, with more and more passion as Katz continued to listen, not interrupting. Words floated through Matthew’s head, making him dizzy. The walls around him seemed to be closing in and he watched Will’s mouth move without blinking. 

‘I’m not the Chesapeake Ripper, Beverly.’ 

‘Hannibal framed me, he’s the Ripper.’

‘Keep looking, Bev.’

‘I didn’t kill those people.’

Matthew was breathing fast now, his heart pounding loud in his ears. Was Will lying? Was he trying to manipulate Katz into pursuing Lecter as the Ripper, to get himself exonerated. Was Will...not the Ripper? 

Matthew ran a shaking hand through his hair. No, no, it couldn’t be. Will had to be the Ripper, Matthew could sense his darkness just below the surface. They were a matched set, mates. If Will wasn’t the Ripper, he was some other kind of killer. Matthew took a deep breath. Maybe it was time to look into Hannibal Lecter more closely. More importantly, Matthew had to look into who Will was. 

He escorted Katz back out, watching her pensive face from the corner of his eye the whole way. She didn’t look shocked by Will’s revelation, she looked intrigued. Matthew thought of the cork boards in her home office, about how Hannibal was as entrenched in the Ripper murders as Will seemed to be. Were they accomplices? Rivals? Star crossed lovers? Matthew stilled the sneer that tried to cover his features. He’d rip out Lecter’s throat before he ceded Will to the man, Ripper or not.

***

The best way to learn about someone was to explore their den. Will’s house was easy to locate, the address had been splashed all over TattleCrime for months during the investigation and trial. Will had made his den in a far out, rustic looking cabin surrounded by woods on all sides. It was far off the road and Matthew found it easy to access, hiking through the trees, breathing into his scarf, hands stuffed into the pockets of his parka. There was no snow yet but the air was harshly cold, unforgiving to those unprepared.

Obviously, Will liked isolation. They had that much in common, at least. It was a soothing walk, no neighbors to dodge and Matthew lingered longer than he should have. There was no car in the long gravel driveway and no lights on inside to chase away the dim morning shadows. He had meant to only observe today, wait and see if anyone came to the house before entering but it was so fucking cold. He stood watching behind the tree line, hidden from sight by the derelict shed in the backyard. A few squirrels ran around the roof and the faint sound of an airplane were the only things to break the silence. 

He bounced on his feet and blew out a breath. Fuck it, it was too damn cold for this. He circled the house on silent feet, looking into all the windows. There was no evidence of an alarm system but it was hard to make out the inside other than the bedroom. The rising sun illuminated the room enough for Matthew to see that the bed was empty so he risked entry. 

The backdoor lock was old and busted and Matthew threw his shoulder against it a few times before it popped open. He scoffed. Was Will truly so careless with his own safety? Of course, a top predator didn’t have much to fear. It was a more comforting thought than that his alpha was indifferent to his own demise. 

The sound of the door being forced open had alerted someone in the house and Matthew tensed at the sound of scraping and clicking coming towards him. The furry head of a dog peeked around the corner, their brown eyes bright and curious. The tension in Matthew’s body left him in a rush and he laughed softly. Pleased at the sound, the dog came closer, tail wagging and nudged at his hand. Matthew knelt and pet the dog’s velvet soft head. 

“Hello, beautiful. You scared the shit out of me.”

The dog didn’t seem bothered and began licking his face and Matthew laughed again before pushing the dog from him. He rose and paused at the sound of more scraping and dog footsteps. 

“What the fuck?”

Matthew inched forward, the brown dog behind him and risked a look around the corner and into the living room. There were six more dogs, lounging on the couch and various dog beds. They were rising now, some growling lowly at him but most seemed curious, nosing at him and scenting him. Matthew held still as each animal took a turn sniffing him and then walking away again to collapse on their beds. He had skipped his beta spray again and dogs were notorious for loving and accepting omegas. Could they smell him? 

More importantly, were all of these beasts Will’s? He had never seen an alpha with so many pets. Had his empathy driven him into this isolation? Instead of a human pack, it seemed that Will had adopted an animal pack. They all looked healthy and happy. Matthew smiled. His alpha was nurturing. How cute. 

All but the brown dog ignored him as he paced around the cabin. The dog, a female, followed him the whole time, butting her head against his leg at every opportunity and he absentmindedly pet her each time. The other dogs dozed, content with the omega in their territory. Could they smell Will on him? 

The house certainly didn’t feel like the den of the Chesapeake Ripper. And the dogs? The Ripper seemed more of the lone wolf type, not one to have so many dependants. Was the Ripper fiercely protective and possessive? Matthew thought so. Traditionally nurturing? Not so much. 

It was a bit dusty, old books were piled haphazardly around the living room and the smell of Will was faint. The kitchen was cluttered, unused looking. The only thing that stuck out was the desk in the corner of the living room. It was covered in fishing paraphernalia and it looked like Will made his own lures. Matthew hovered over the desk, awed at the fine detail of the lure under the magnifying glass. It looked so delicate and Matthew could easily picture Will sitting there for hours at a time, meticulously crafting. He opened the cracked open closet next to the desk to find more fishing supplies; poles, waders, buckets, tack. He closed the door softly, a feeling of horror creeping slowly over him. The more he explored the house, the less it felt like the Ripper. 

The bedroom was next. The dog jumped on the bed as soon as Matthew opened the door, settling down with a sigh. Matthew opened drawers and shuffled through the closet to find nothing interesting. He walked over to the dog and began petting her head. The bed was rumpled, smelling of old sweat and alpha fear. Nightmares? Matthew couldn’t imagine the Ripper having nightmares…

The way the Ripper displayed his victims was bold, powerful, graceful, artistic. Will didn’t quite seem to fit the mold that the BAU painted of the Ripper in their files. Was Will so good at hiding? Was the BAU so desperate for the Ripper to be caught that they ignored the signs that didn’t fit? Other than Katz, of course. 

Matthew checked under the bed and pulled out an unlocked safe. Inside was Will’s personal file of the Chesapeake Ripper, all the information that had been accumulated before Will’s arrest. Matthew smirked at the dog on the bed, feeling smug. He could use this to look into Lecter on his own. He wouldn’t be able to rest until he knew that absolute truth. Either Will was lying or he wasn’t the Ripper. 

“Well, well. Fortune favors the bold and all that bullshit.” 

The sound of crunching gravel startled Matthew and he ushered the dog out of the bedroom, closing the door behind him. The dogs in the living room were at instant attention at the sound of a car door opening and closing. Fuck. Matthew ducked out the back door, the sound of the dogs barking covered any noise he made. He knelt against the side of the house, tracking the sound of footsteps on the front porch and a key turning in the door. He heard a feminine voice greet the dogs and bit his lip to keep in a jealous growl. Who the fuck was this, that Will trusted to take care of his pack?

Matthew shook his head and dug his fingers into his thigh. He couldn’t stay and risk detection, couldn’t risk anything more than what he already did, entering Will’s house without proper reconnaissance. He crept along the side of the house, eyeing the break in the trees he needed to reach to escape. He could hear the woman in the kitchen now, opening cabinets and laughing lowly. Damn, these walls were thin. 

He stood, standing at the side of the porch, ready to make a break for the tree line when the front door opened and the dogs poured out of it, scrambling over each other and barking in excitement. A few trotted up to him immediately and he cursed under his breath, turning to take in the woman that followed the dogs out of the house. She looked familiar.

She startled upon seeing him as he walked towards her, smiling blandly. The brown dog from earlier was jumping around him trying to get his attention and he patted her head absently, mind whirling. Before Matthew could decide his next move, before he could calculate the distance he would have to cross to incapacitate her, the woman relaxed, stepping forward and offering her hand, smiling. 

“Roger, right? I’m Alana, nice to meet you. You’re here about adopting a dog? I didn’t hear you pull up…”

She looked around, trailing off at not seeing a vehicle parked in the driveway. Matthew tried his best to look sheepish, a little bit of an idiot. 

“Right, yeah. Uh, I got here early and didn’t want to wait around. I parked a ways back, at the trailhead, then walked back. It’s a nice morning. Gosh, so many dogs!”

Alana, Alana, that name sounded...Shit, Dr Bloom. Her name had been all over Will’s psych evals. His being here had the chance of getting back to Will. Matthew was unsure how the alpha would take that. 

Alana was looking nervous, obviously doubting his story a little. She crossed her arms, eyes darting to the dogs and back to Matthew. He forced his muscles to stay relaxed, his stance open and nonthreatening. He took a step forward, tilting his head in a sign of submission, willing her to stay level headed and scent him. The adrenaline and lack of beta spray had made his body produce high levels of hormones and he could smell his own omega scent. She looked ready to bolt but relaxed instantly at his scent. This close, Matthew could smell her too; omega. She grimaced, looking embarrassed. 

“I’m sorry, you said over the phone you were an omega but…”

Matthew gave her a strained smile. 

“I know I’m not traditionally omega looking…”

She blushed and waved her hands in the air, as if trying to snatch back her words. 

“Oh, no. I-”

Matthew laughed, enjoying her discomfort. 

“It's fine, really. People say I don’t look very omega and being one yourself, you can never be too careful, right? It’s good to be cautious. I’m not offended, I promise.”

Alana nodded and stuffed her hands into her coat. 

“Thank you for understanding.”

They spent thirty minutes chatting about nothing important and Matthew let her lead the conversation, pretending all the while to be ‘Roger’. It was worth being spotted to learn that Will was a friend and colleague to Alana and not her alpha. She spoke of a girlfriend more than once and Matthew found himself enjoying her company. He had never interacted as an omega with other omegas. Was this camaraderie normal or was it just that Alana was particularly personable? 

It seemed inevitable, between Alana cooing over the brown dog, Harley, never leaving his side and his own affection for the animal, that he took her home. He had the space and the fact that Harley was a part of Will’s pack made him want to take care of her. He only wished he could provide for the whole pack. 

***

If Will wasn’t the Ripper, could the alpha accept Matthew? Matthew had witnessed glimpses of a darkness, a beast lurking under the surface in Will. But the alpha had a tight stranglehold, an absolute control over his dark nature. Was his beast close to the surface because of Lecter, an instinctive response to the real Ripper? Two monsters meeting, clashing together to choose one winner. 

Matthew kept his distance from Will the next few days. He had accepted that Ripper or not, Will was his alpha but the potential that Will would turn him away because of Matthew’s heat rage was a terrifying possibility. He had come to accept Will under the assumption that the alpha was the Ripper and now...he was at a loss, confused, cautious.  
Will noticed Matthew’s change, his distance. He only went to Will when he knew they would never be alone, an armed and watchful guard at the omega’s side. Will gazed at him more closely, confused and always frowning. Did he feel the strain on their bond that was happening? Matthew never stayed long enough for Will to speak to him and was always too busy with other patients to escort Will to the showers. 

It was hard for Matthew to resist the call his omega felt to Will but observing Will on the security office cameras helped. This Will, the one that felt he was not being watched, that no one could see him, was Matthew’s favorite. The alpha was still in these moments, so deep in his mind that he barely moved. And, sometimes, in the few seconds where  
Will emerged from his mind, his shields were down and Matthew could see his inner beast. It called to Matthew’s own so deeply that he ached. 

As much as he wanted to see Will in complete, glorious, bloody ascension, Will’s softer side called the Matthew as well. The Will that looked after his dog pack, the Will that inspired friendship in the people around him, the Will that fought his beast tooth and nail. The Will that wanted to be in the light even though the darkness felt right, felt like home. 

There was a Will that would be a tender, gentle mate and a Will that would be brutal, feral in his possessive intensity. Matthew wanted both. 

***

The longer Matthew stayed away from Will, the more agitated the alpha became. He was hostile with Frank and openly growled at the guards during shift change. Matthew watched it all with a mounting glee. Did Will’s inner alpha feel Matthew’s absence? Will’s file said that the alpha had been on suppressants for close to twenty years. How disconnected was Will from his instincts? 

After three days, Matthew couldn’t stay away. He escorted Will to the showers, nervous and excited for alone time with his alpha. Will’s eyes were rimmed with red and he snarled as Matthew stepped into his cell, his canines flashing in warning. Matthew held his hands up, staying near the glass door. 

“Whoa, big guy, it’s just me. Shower time.”

Will nodded stiffly and held his body still, not even breathing as Matthew cuffed him. There was only one guard today that followed behind them and stood outside the closed door to the locker room. Chilton had allowed the security around Will to grow lax in response to the alpha’s good behavior. It happened with the patients that Chilton grew bored of, the ones that refused to play his games. Usually, Matthew took more caution with his charges, never allowing himself to be alone with them, forcing the guard in the room at all times. He couldn’t afford to be attacked and outed but he trusted Will. 

Which was why Matthew was so shocked he didn’t fight back when Will rounded on him as soon as Matthew shut the door and slammed him into the shower wall. He crowded close to Matthew, using his slightly taller height to his advantage. Matthew was more muscular than Will but in that moment, Will boxing him in against the wall and pumping out aggressive pheromones, Matthew felt small and weak. It was exhilarating and frightening all at once. When Will spoke, his voice was more guttural than usual and his hot,  
angry breath ghosted over Matthew’s mouth and chin. 

“Where the hell have you been?”

Matthew swallowed thickly, biting back a whine but he couldn’t stop his head from falling to the side, exposing the long line of his unmarked neck to Will. Will’s breath stuttered and he pressed closer, chest to chest and he lowered his head. Matthew tensed and started to fight Will’s hold before the alpha could scent him. His fighting seemed to snap Will out of whatever had come over him and the alpha took a step back, shaking his head, running a hand over his face. Matthew took a deep, slow breath, trembling. 

That was too close. If Will scented his omega through the suppressants, there would be no stopping the alpha if he accepted the bond. Matthew didn’t want to be rutted upon and mated in the hospital showers, a witness only a few feet away. They would drag Matthew away to an omega house and Will would kill anyone who separated them. They needed to be far away from the hospital and safe in Matthew’s nest and Matthew needed to know that he could trust Will, that Will wouldn’t turn him away for his darker inclinations. Now was not the right time but it still stung how quickly Will moved away from him. Will began to pace. 

“Well? Why have you been avoiding me?”

Matthew pushed off the wall and crossed his arms, watching Will move back and forth. 

“I’ve been busy-”

Will was a blur, reaching out and closing a hot hand around Matthew’s neck and squeezing. Matthew whined and grabbed Will’s wrist but he didn’t fight. Will’s eyes were unfocused, a bit wild. There was a sheen of sweat on his brow and upper lip as he shook Matthew by the throat. 

“Don’t fucking lie to me, beta. You haven’t been ‘busy’ and what the hell were you thinking, leaving that letter in Beverly’s house? You should have just dropped it in the mail, not fucking stalked her. Now she’s overly suspicious of me and my ‘contacts’.” 

Matthew kept one hand wrapped around Will’s wrist and the other reached out to claw at Will’s shirt, grasping a handful of the material. He took a deep breath of Will’s smokey scent and relaxed under his hands, trusting his alpha even with this sudden show of dominance. 

“You didn’t really specify-”

Will pushed and Matthew’s back met the cold tile wall behind him again, knocking the breath out of him. Will followed and pressed their bodies flush, his teeth bared, rage writ on every muscle of his face. 

“I expected you to be smarter than that. I suppose I gave you too much credit.”

“Now, that’s not really fair, Will. I can’t read your mind and you refuse to bring me into your confidence. I can be a real asset to you, if you just trust me. I’m good, right? No one saw me and I bet she has no clue as to your contact’s identity.”

Will huffed and let go of Matthew’s throat, retreating again, putting a few feet of space between them. Matthew frowned, watching the alpha start to pace again. Why was Will acting so strangely? 

“You’re right. You did well but no more reckless behavior.”

Matthew smirked.

“Almost sounds like you care, alpha.”

When Will didn’t respond, just continued circling the room, Matthew frowned and stepped forward off the wall. He moved slowly, approaching Will, eyes down and shoulders hunched, trying to appear as non threatening as possible. What was wrong with the alpha? Will went still and let him come closer, tracking his every move with dark eyes. Matthew’s instincts were screaming at him to run, to fall to his knees. 

He held out a hand and slowly raised it, placing it on Will’s forehead. Will was burning up and the alpha pressed into Matthew’s hand, closing his eyes and scenting the air deep, nostrils flaring. This close, Matthew could smell Will clearly, his wood smoke and pine scent was richer, more potent. It seeped into Matthew’s senses and made his head spin. 

“Fuck, Will, you’re going into rut.”

Matthew tried to pull away, to back up towards the door and alert the guard but Will caught him by the wrist, pulling him close. He scented the air again before growling, eyes fully red. Matthew struggled, dislodging Will’s hold and turning to flee, even knowing that it would inflame Will to pursue him. Will was faster than Matthew, grabbing a fistful of the omega’s hair and wrenching him back. 

Will kicked out, making Matthew fall to his knees and pressed against his back, bearing him to the floor. Will straddled his hips, a rough hand on the back of Matthew’s neck, keeping him pinned and Matthew could feel the hard line of Will’s erection against his ass. Will ground his cock down, growling from deep in his chest. It made Matthew shudder and he could feel his body reacting, growing wet and working hard to overcome his suppressants. Matthew curled his fingers into claws, nails scrabbling against the tile floor, trying in vain to crawl out from under Will. Will chuckled darkly and leaned down to snuffle at his nape, breath huffing. 

“You smell like omega, Matthew. You have a little bitch waiting for you at home?” 

Matthew growled, offended and his rage snapped him out of his frightened submission. He twisted and drove his elbow into Will’s face as hard as he could. The alpha cried out  
and fell back, holding his bloody mouth. Matthew turned over and put distance between them, growling in warning. 

“Fuck you, alpha. Don’t speak of omegas like that.” 

The blow and his words seemed to clear Will’s mind and the alpha ducked his head, hunching over and holding his stomach. His voice was smaller when he spoke, his tone apologetic. 

“I’m sorry, Matthew. I’m not usually- Please, hurry and leave. I can feel my rut coming back. I can’t hold it back much longer.”

Matthew stood on shaking legs and stumbled to the door. 

“You’re okay, alpha. We’ll get you into a rut room. You’ll be safe there.”

Will didn’t move or respond and Matthew stayed in the hallway as four guards led Will away. He wanted nothing more than to follow Will, help his alpha through his rut but instead he went home. 

It wasn’t until later, when his body was buzzing with an oncoming, sympathetic heat that Matthew realized that in that moment, under Will, the last thing on his mind was fighting and killing Will. All he wanted was to be good for his alpha, take his knot and let Will breed him until he was sated.


	4. Matthew Learns More About Hannibal and Meets...?

Matthew’s alpha rut induced heat was sudden, leaving him unable to seek out an alpha and a double dose of suppressants shortened it to twenty four hours from the usual four days. He always hit the bars, trolling for an unfortunate alpha during his preheat, when he was in full control of his body. He barely made it home after the experience with Will in the showers before he was panting, fevered and soaking his scrubs with slick. There was no way he’d make it a few miles outside of his home smelling like ripe omega without being accosted. 

It was the first heat since his childhood that he hadn’t been able to satisfy his bloodlust. It left him agitated, moody, ready to crawl the walls in frustration. His knotting dildo did nothing and he was tempted to set it on fire. How did other omegas do this? He wanted to fight, to rend and tear and howl until he felt sated. Fuck.   
After the initial frenzy that lasted through the night, Matthew was able to coax Iris, the kittens and Harley into a freshly made, clean nest. The cuddling helped, feeling their slow breathing, warm little bodies pressed against him let him sleep through the rest of his heat. They were patient with him, only dragging him away from the nest for the absolute necessities. 

He hadn’t planned for this sudden heat, obviously but it brought to his attention that something would have to be done with his little pack for the next one. There was no way he’d be able to care for them, himself and lure an alpha home while out of his mind with heat for four days. He felt horrible, thinking of other alphas for his heats when he was scent bonded to Will but, technically, he didn’t have to fuck them to sate his heat, just fight and kill them. Like most omegas, Matthew went into heat every month. There was no feasible way to wait for his alpha to help with his heats. It didn’t assuage his guilt but he had no choice until Will accepted his bond and they were able to free him. 

After twenty four hours, Matthew had recovered enough to pull himself together. He had requested the full four days off of work just in case, citing a death in his family and now found that he was restless. No work meant no Will, who would be stuck in isolation at any rate. He was bored and pacing around his home, spending time with his pack did nothing to relieve the tension in his mind and body. 

More than once, Matthew picked up the file on the Ripper that he had stolen from Will’s den, reading it over and over, fascinated at every pass. Three more days of no responsibilities was the perfect excuse to look into who Will claimed was the real Chesapeake Ripper, Dr. Hannibal Lecter.

***

The part of the file that concentrated on Will’s profile of Lecter was pretty fucking comprehensive. It spoke to an intimacy between the two of them that made Matthew feel twitchy but he pushed the feeling of jealousy away and concentrated on being calm. The neighborhood that Lecter lived in was ritzy; old brick homes, clean, quiet streets and next to zero pedestrians. Matthew did a pass in his beat up white car and left immediately, doubling back to the nearest rental and driving away with a sleek, newer car. 

He spent the first two days watching Lecter come and go, morning until night. Lecter was...handsome; older, distinguished, perfectly bland but with an undercurrent of danger that only certain people could sense. He was also, according to Will’s handwritten notes, incredibly charming, accomplished and manipulative. That was the short of it anyway, Will spent entirely too long reciting Lecter’s good and bad qualities. The worst being, of course, the multiple homicides Will accused him of committing. Matthew had to grudgingly admit that if Lecter was the Ripper, the bumbling beta psychologist face he hid behind was nothing short of ingenious. What about his persona was real? All of it, none of it? 

Was Hannibal even a beta? It was rare for serial killers to not be alphas and most people in law enforcement refused to even consider beta or omega suspects. Was this another part of his impeccable blending? There was only one way to answer these questions: get inside Lecter’s house. 

On the third day, as if through divine intervention, Lecter left his home in the late night hours with a small suitcase. Matthew shook the fog of sleep from his mind and jerked his binoculars up in time to see him tucking airline tickets into his jacket pocket. He couldn’t read the print but the design was unmistakable. Matthew felt a rush of adrenaline and he grinned at his reflection in the rear view mirror. 

As much as he wanted to rush in, Matthew waited a few hours to approach the house. He got his pack situated at home, washed off his beta spray and gathered supplies before coming back close to one o’clock. The house was dark, no lights. It seemed safe.   
His supplies were minimal, he preferred to travel light for things like this; tiny but strong flashlight, gloves, lock picks and his best knife, long, serrated and wicked looking, strapped to his hip. It wasn’t the most practical of weapons but he loved the way it sliced through skin, creating nasty, jagged wounds that left his prey with no hope of recovery. He knew from his research that Lecter didn’t own a security system and, again, why would the fucking Ripper need one. Enter his den at your own risk. 

The houses around Lecter’s were dark, their inhabitants asleep for the night and Matthew crept around the back, blending into the night in his dark clothes. The garden gate wasn’t locked and it swung silently open under Matthew’s gloved hand. The back yard was small but functional, a black iron wrought table and two chairs were outlined by the rising moon, casting shadows on the brick patio and walkway. Hugging the house was what looked like an extensive herb garden, shriveled and brown and along the walkway, bare bushes brushed Matthew’s pant legs as he walked; roses?

The door was easy to lock pick, no deadbolt prevented entry but instead of feeling triumphant, Matthew felt more and more unnerved. Scaling the walls of Lecter’s castle was too easy, what awaited a foolish treasure seeker beyond the foreboding walls? He expected the door to creak open, to add to his nervous energy but it was silent. He stepped directly into an impressive kitchen. Despite his earlier bravado, Matthew felt wrong stepping into the house, his instincts were screaming at him to leave before it was too late. He ignored the feeling, his curiosity too potent to ignore. 

The kitchen was a stunning space, beautiful and functional and obviously in constant use. It was clean but packed with different machines, some that Matthew didn’t recognize, including more than one fridge and an insane amount of counter space. Matthew chuckled, imagining the Ripper throwing dinner parties and rubbing elbows with his enemies. The hushed space, filled with granite counter tops and gleaming stainless steel felt holy, like a temple that should not be desecrated. 

He moved through the kitchen, touching nothing and entered a lavish dining room. It gave Matthew the impression of a theatrical stage, as if the far wall could fall away at any second and an audience would be revealed, watching Lecter’s dinner parties with hushed excitement. He could barely fathom what such an event would look like. Did his guests clap at the end of Lecter’s performance? 

He could picture it perfectly, Lecter at the head of the table, watching his guests with an amused smile and dark eyes. Matthew moved through the dining room, taking in the decor, fresh herbs on the shelves, tasteful chairs, an inviting fireplace and enough pretentious art to make the omega shudder. He couldn't catch a scent either, which only fueled his speculation that Lecter was lying about his secondary gender.

Lecter obviously fully embraced his persona but it felt empty to Matthew, like Lecter was stage acting, changing his masks when needed but never disrobing until final curtain, when the audience had gone home. How did no one else see this? Was it only a monster that could see other monsters? Did Lecter own any space that he could truly be himself or did he only unleash his beast when on the hunt. Lecter’s house screamed hidden depths but nothing blatantly stated that the man was the Ripper. 

Matthew moved through a living room and made his way to the stairs leading up. He passed a door, the basement?, and paused. The door was nondescript other than the two deadbolts that adorned it, one at the top and one at the bottom. Matthew felt his heart start to race. What lay beyond this door, a portal to the heart of Hannibal Lecter? Without a second thought, Matthew unlocked the door and flung it open, venturing recklessly into the darkness beyond. 

He descended, feeling with his hands until he reached the bottom. Motion sensor lights flared to life as he walked forward into the chill basement and he stumbled, blinking rapidly. He couldn’t help but gasp at what was revealed when he adjusted to the lights. Any doubt that he had vanished as he took in the large stationary circulating saw, steel medical table and pristine instruments out and waiting. The space was vast, white, sterile...clinical. It made Matthew feel inferior, his own kills were messy, opportunistic, driven by passion and rage. Lecter was operating on a higher level, so far outside of Matthew’s league that it was laughable. 

Matthew felt a moment of acute insecurity. How can he hope to catch Will’s attention when Hannibal Lecter existed, reaching out and consuming everything around him? Hannibal, the Chesapeake Ripper, was a chaotic vortex, one that Matthew was hopeless against. Will strongly believed that Hannibal framed him for the Ripper kills and yet still, Will got this sparkling look in his eyes when he spoke of Hannibal. Matthew’s alpha was so inextricably linked to Hannibal Lecter that it seemed impossible to separate them without bloodshed. Where did that leave Matthew?

Matthew shook off his spiraling thoughts and paced around the front area of the basement, ignoring, for now, what lay beyond the swaying plastic partition. Like a beacon, the large standing freezer called to him and he approached it, opening the door, squinting into the interior against the harsh light that spilled from it. A severed arm greeted him, covered in a fine layer of frost, fingers curled and elbow bent. The sight drew a shocked, incredulous laugh from Matthew. 

“What the fuck…”

He reached for it, to prove it was real, running his fingers over it, tracing the cold, brittle skin. He snatched back his arm, hugging it to his chest, his mind whirling in confusion. He opened the other side of the freezer, leaving the doors open as he turned to the next freezer and the next. A head greeted him, a leg and an endless amount of unlabeled, delicately butchered meat. 

Matthew stumbled back, feeling numb, heart racing. He slumped against the medical table, clutching the edge of the cold metal in unfeeling fingers, staring at the three open freezers and the innocent looking, white paper clad meat. Hannibal Lecter was a fucking cannibal. Why else would he keep human bodies like this, disguised in butcher paper? Perhaps Matthew should have been feeling disgust or horror but all he felt was an overwhelming curiosity.

What did human taste like? Why did Hannibal eat his victims? It certainly gave them a higher purpose, to fuel a greater being such as the Ripper. Did Hannibal serve his victims to his dinner guests? That thought had Matthew laughing loud with glee. Of course! That was why the dining room felt like a stage, it was! It was a secret, private show for only Hannibal. 

Matthew’s pulse was loud in his ears and from one moment to the next, he realized that he was hard, his cock pulsing, leaking in his pants. He couldn’t resist running a trembling hand over himself, pressing and groping, head falling back at the delicious friction. Fuck. He snatched his hand away, guilt breaking through his arousal. How could he feel like this and be bonded to Will? The guilt was enough to banish his arousal and Matthew walked towards the open freezers to run his fingers over the white wrapped bundles inside. Surely, Hannibal wouldn’t miss a few…? 

Decision made, Matthew slid a few into his pockets, smirking at the thought of consuming them. Hannibal was much more interesting than he had given the beta credit for but more importantly, Will was right, Hannibal was the Ripper and he had framed Will for the crimes. But why? 

A dark form, moving across the swaying plastic was Matthew’s only warning before a body slammed into him. Surprised, he went down fast, face hitting the hard concrete, hands flailing for the knife at his belt. The other person straddled his waist from behind, a hand winding through and tightening in his hair, pulling his head back before slamming it into the floor. He grunted, ears ringing from the impact but his hand found his knife, gracelessly pulling it up and back. The weight on his back disappeared, leaping away from his knife and he didn’t pause, rolling over and coming to a crouch, swiping the knife before him to ward off further attack. 

The lights were still bright and Matthew could see his attacker clearly, a young woman. Her face was an angry snarl, her eyes wide, long dark hair a mess. She held a scalpel in one hand, staring at him without a hint of fear. Matthew let out a hysterical laugh. 

“Jesus, kid. What that fuck are you doing?”

Her face dropped from the snarl into bewildered confusion. She stood from her crouch, still holding the scalpel in front of her. 

“‘What am I doing?’, says the trespasser. You must be a special kind of fool to break into Hannibal’s house.” 

Matthew kept the grin on his face and dropped his knife a little.

“The hostage calls the trespasser a fool. What if I were here to save you?”

“I’m not a hostage…”

The young woman rolled her eyes, dropping her arm and relaxing her posture. Matthew wasn’t fooled, she still looked ready to leap at him. Despite the warning bells, he sheathed his knife, holding his hands up and out. 

“Oh, yeah. Well, the two locked deadbolts on the door upstairs says differently. You’re a real dead ringer for Abigail fucking Hobbs. Anyone ever tell you that?”

She startled at that, dropping the scalpel with a clang on the floor. She looked so scared and pale that Matthew’s chest ached. 

“How-what, you know me?”

She looked ready to run or pick the scalpel back up and start swinging again so he spoke soft and slow. 

“Yeah, kiddo. I mean, your face was all over the place after Will knocked off your pops....er.”

Her face lit up and she took a step forward before stopping, crossing her arms over her chest and hunching her shoulders. 

“You know Will? How is he? What happened? Hannibal won’t tell me…”

Matthew bit his lip and curled his hands into fists to stop his hands from reaching out for Abigail. Something about her made him want to comfort her. 

“Yeah, yeah I know Will....Ah. I work as an orderly at the hospital. You know, where Will is being imprisoned.”

She frowned, lifting her head and scenting the air, not bothering to hide the action. 

“So he talked about me with you?”

Matthew ran a hand over his face, feeling a little uncomfortable. Why was he wasting time talking to her? He should be getting the hell out of here before the fucking Ripper decided to come back and check on his presumed dead kidnapee. 

“Not exactly. He has this file on everything to do with the Ripper cases and Lecter. Reads more like a journal, to be honest. You’re in there, so…”

She smiled slightly, looking pleased before frowning again. 

“Wait, you’re an orderly? How did an omega-”

Matthew drew in a loud, hissing breath, shocked. She jumped, her eyes finding his before she dropped her hands and relaxed her posture, smirking. 

“I smelled you as soon as you entered the basement. I knew you weren’t Hannibal so I waited, watching to see what you would do. I thought maybe you were with the FBI.”

“That’s a good nose you have, kid. I’m sure as shit not with the FBI.”

She huffed and slinked closer, leaning in to scent him. He could smell that she was an omega as well, this close. So he let her scent him, feeling comforted instead of challenged. Her tone, when she spoke next was soft, words slurring as if drunk. 

“You smell like...Will, like his...mate? You smell like family.”

She swayed forward, eyes filling with tears and Matthew grabbed her by the nape, pulling her forward to press her face against the scent gland at his neck. He pressed his face into her hair and they both trembled. With Abigail in his arms, Matthew felt like a rubber band had snapped between them, pulled taut and then releasing, a link shifting into place. 

“Fuck, it feels like…”

She pressed her face into his chest as she spoke, her words muffled. 

“It feels like the bond I had with my mother.”

Matthew squeezed her tighter, feeling overwhelmed. 

“I don’t understand.”

She leaned back and brushed his hair off his forehead, eyes shining, face incandescent. 

“I always felt like Will was a father to me and now I know he felt the same. We bonded, we’re pack because Will is pack to us. I...I don’t even know your name.”

She laughed, head thrown back and the joyous sound reverberated through Matthew’s body, spreading warmth. He touched his forehead to hers. 

“Matthew Brown. Nice to meet you, kid.”

She smiled. 

“Ditto.”

He pushed her to arms length, suddenly nervous. 

“Just so you know, Will doesn’t exactly know I’m his omega, or that I’m an omega at all.”

Abigail’s face didn’t change as she reached up and squeezed his hands. 

“I understand. You pose as what, a beta? To keep your job? And I understand not telling Will because of Hannibal…”

Matthew looked down at that, feeling his heart constrict in his chest. 

“Yeah, I was afraid of something like that. The way Will talks about him, it’s like Hannibal is his whole world, even with their fucked up relationship. But, nevermind all that stupid drama, we have to get you out of here before Hannibal comes back.”

She frowned and stumbled back from him. His arms felt cold without her. 

“I, I can’t leave. Do you know what Hannibal would do to you if you get involved, ruin his games? He doesn’t care about anything but Will. That’s the only reason I’m still alive, because Will would do anything for me.” 

Matthew pursed his lips, straightening to his full height and moved after her retreat, placing his hands on her shoulders. 

“Hannibal has no idea I exist and I don’t think Will would say anything, do you? Seems to me that the two of them are firmly on opposite sides. Will probably doesn’t even think about me when I’m not in the room.”

She frowned and took his face in her hands. 

“Don’t say that, Matthew. Will has to know instinctively that your his. Hasn’t he shown signs of that?”

Matthew bit his lip, calling to mind when Will was desperate for him as he was entering rut. 

“A little but maybe it’s too late for us. I’m nothing next to Hannibal.”

Fuck, why was he unloading all of this shit on a kid? They needed to leave. Abigail opened her mouth, looking irate but he cut her off, pulling her towards the basement stars. 

“Let’s talk about my self esteem later, okay? Lecter left with a suitcase but who knows how long he’ll be gone.”

She dug her heels in, halting them immediately. Matthew spun around, ready to throw her over his shoulder, if need be. She looked so torn that he paused, letting her speak. 

“I can’t, Matthew. Hannibal will hunt me down, stopping at nothing until I’m found. I’m too important to his plans for Will.”

“What plans?”

“He said that he wants all of us to run away together, to Europe, Will, Hannibal and I, to be a family. Hannibal said he needs me to get Will to leave with him. I think he   
feels...lonely without Will.”

Matthew scoffed. 

“He should have thought of that before he framed Will for murder and had him locked away. He’s really fucked up over this, Abigail. He thinks you’re dead, kid.”

She dipped her head. 

“I had a feeling…” 

Matthew shook his head, grabbing her wrist and dragging her to the stairs. 

“I don’t give a shit about all this stupid drama, Abigail. Come home with me. You’ll be safe, Hannibal will never find you and...I care about you. You feel that, right? Fuck these alphas and their stupid games. Besides, it’s a new thing I’m doing, taking home Will Graham’s strays.”

She was still resisting and he spun to face her, desperate to convince her. 

“Abigail, to Hannibal you’re an expendable pawn but to me? You’re pack, with or without Will. Do you understand?” 

She was crying now, tears streaming down her face but she didn’t speak, just took Matthew’s hand again and led the way out of Hannibal’s house. Matthew didn’t speak again until they reached the car.

“I won’t tell anyone that you’re with me, if you don’t want me to. Not even Will.”

Abigail was silent, looking out the car window. After a few moments she spoke. 

“It feels weird, leaving like this. No matter what Hannibal did to me or to Will, I still love him, I still see him as a father figure. Is that stupid?”  
Matthew tightened his hands on the wheel, catching a growl before it could start in his chest. He took a deep breath. 

“No, kid, it’s not stupid to want to be loved. No matter what you think or what you’ve been told, you deserve love. You’ve just been looking in the wrong places for it.” 

He risked a glance at her, feeling too open and vulnerable but she smiled at him, reaching over to take his hand. 

“You deserve love, too. They’d be stupid not to love you.”

He was so touched by her words that he never asked her who the fuck ‘they’ were.


	5. Matthew Takes Inspiration from Hannibal

Matthew could tell Abigail was nervous as they pulled into his long driveway. Her posture was stiff, her fingers picking at the edge of her sweater, biting her lip. The tension affected him as well, sinking under his skin and settling into his bones, making him tap his fingers on the steering wheel. Neither of them had reached for the radio during the charged forty minute ride from Hannibal’s house to his. Was she regretting her decision to leave, dreading Hannibal’s reaction? Or was she finally realizing that she had followed a dangerous stranger, from one monster’s den to another?

Matthew could admit that he found Hannibal fascinating, could admit that he burned with questions, wanted desperately to know what made Hannibal the man, or beast, that he was. He wanted to know why Will and Hannibal were bound so tight that everyone around them saw the two as one entity, despite not being mated. What was the history, the cause and effect?

But finding Abigail, feeling the bond between them, awakened such a paternal feeling in him that Matthew had thought he wasn’t capable of. It rearranged his priorities. He wanted his alpha, Will. He wanted to protect him, please him, give him a home and all the children he could want. The pull, the hook in his chest was still there, pulling him always, relentlessly to Will, to his alpha but…

Matthew looked sideways, taking in Abigail; beautiful, vulnerable, lost in the darkness. He wanted to hold her, fight and kill anyone or anything that would threaten her, keep her safe in his warm den, make her pack. Would Will want that as well? Would he be happy that his mate and his daughter had found each other, had come together to make a home? He squeezed his hands tighter on the steering wheel, knuckles white, the sound of gravel under the tires loud in his ears. 

And what the fuck was Hannibal playing at, faking Abigail’s death and keeping her locked up, away from everyone, away from Will. Did he care so little about her, about Will. Matthew shook his head, fighting off the familiar slow, creeping lava in his stomach, the desire to turn the car around and confront Hannibal, the burning hatred that led to violence. He wanted to rip the man’s face off, push his fingers in the soft flesh of his eyes until they popped, grip his-

“Matty?”

Matthew blinked, Abigail’s soft voice echoing in his head, sounding unsure. When what she said registered he guffawed loudly, instantly charmed. He parked the car in front of his house and the porch light shined into the cab to illuminate her hesitant features. He turned half way in his seat, clicking open and shoving away the seatbelt when it irritated his neck. 

“Did you just call me ‘Matty’?”

She cleared her throat, wincing. 

“Yes, I mean, no. That is, if you hate it-”

“Whoa, whoa, honey, it’s fucking adorable. No one has ever called me that. Not that anyone ever deserved getting to know me well enough to give me a nickname.”

She instantly relaxed and he reached over to take her hand in his. She smiled, gazing shyly at their joined hands, her scent calm and pleased. Matthew took a deep breath, loving the way his own petrichor and moss twined with her water lily and patchouli scent. 

“I just thought...I can feel the bond between us but I’m eighteen. It feels weird calling someone ‘Dad’ or ‘Mom’ I just met. And despite the problems between myself and my birth parents, I still think of them by those names. So: Matty.” 

She still looked a little scared, overwhelmed. 

“Matty and Abs. It’s us against the world, kid.”

She scrunched her face up, looking disgusted. Matthew laughed. 

“Hey, now! If you get to call me a horribly cutesy name, I get to call you something annoying, too. Sorry, kid, that’s just pack rules.”

Abigail rolled her eyes but didn’t protest, her cheeks tinted red. Matthew let go of her hand with a sigh. 

“Come on, kid. Let’s get you settled and you can meet the rest of the pack.”

***

The introductions of Abigail, Iris, the kittens and Harley went over well. She sighed and fawned over each of them, protesting loudly when Matthew told her that the two kittens didn’t have names yet. She insisted on picking out two names on the spot, agonizing over her choices until settling on Dorian and Salem. Matthew was glad to have put off choosing names for the two little balls of black fluff. Abigail looked delighted to be included in a pack decision.

Later, when Matthew had gotten her settled into the only spare bedroom, which had to be dusted thoroughly and cleared of clutter, Abigail sighed as he tucked her in. He smirked, seeing her looking so happy but he couldn’t resist prying a little. The need to know had always been a fault of his. 

“So, you, Hannibal and Will…” 

She bit her lip, fluffing the pillow and stuffing it behind her back before reaching for his hand, playing with his fingers as she spoke. 

“How much do you know about my father and what I did with him, for him?”

“According to Will’s notes, he strongly suspected that you were involved with your father’s murders. He said you helped him lure those girls, helped him prepare their bodies and stage the displays.”

She looked startled, her voice coming out in a pained whisper. Matthew followed the path of her fingers as she traced the clean, white scar on her neck absently.

“He knew? How long…?”

Matthew hummed, trying to recall Will’s exact words in the file. 

“I think since the beginning.”

“But he was always so kind. He didn’t treat me like a murderer.”

“Well, I think Will understands that it was a difficult and delicate situation that you were in. On the one hand, it was those girls or you and on the other...I think you enjoyed it, just a little. The power you felt, the pride your father showed you. The displays were beautiful. I have a feeling those displays were more you than Garret. Right?”

She swallowed heavily, not meeting his gaze but not letting go of his hand. She nodded, her face pale. Matthew shushed her, moving to sit beside her, putting his arm around her shoulders so that she could lean on him. She hid her face in his chest, trembling. 

“Hey, it’s okay, kid. I’m the last person that would judge you for liking something like that.”

When she didn’t respond, he continued, a little nervous, worrying his lip with his teeth.

“Have you ever heard of heat violence?”

She sniffed and leaned back, staying under his arm but looking up at his face. Her eyes were large and dark, looking at him with so much trust that it made his heart soar in his chest. She rubbed the moisture from her eyes. 

“I thought that was a myth. Something that alphas say is real so they can claim self defense when they murder an innocent omega.”

“Well, I don’t know about all that but I can say that actual heat violence is real and it’s something I experience.”

He paused but Abigail stayed silent, her face open and encouraging. 

“During heat, my body has always craved more, more sex, more clawing and bruising, more fighting for dominance. Sometimes, even the softer stuff, more cuddling, more attention from a partner. It’s too much for most alphas, well, probably all alphas. When they can’t give me what I want, my inner omega wants revenge. I take out all my frustration on my partner and I…”

As he spoke, her face had become increasingly understanding. 

“You kill them.”

Matthew cleared his throat, feeling exposed. He had never discussed this with anyone.

“That’s how it always ends. My omega finds them unworthy and my instincts tell me that they don’t deserve to live. I fought it at first, when I was young but now, it’s the only thing that satisfies my heats. They can’t make me submit, so they die and their deaths let my body rest. I’ve come to enjoy it. So I understand how you feel, Abs, when you worked with your father, the power and pride that comes from being a predator in a world that expects you to be prey.”

Her eyes slid past him, as if she were thinking hard. 

“I’ve never met anyone like you, Matty. It’s...nice.”

Matthew smiled at her and she returned it, cheeks glowing, looking warm and soft wrapped in a thick quilt. He kissed her forehead, making her sigh and close her eyes. 

“I feel the same about you, kiddo. Get some rest, alright?”

He turned to leave but was stopped when Abigail caught the cuff of his sweater between two of her fingers. Her face was fierce, eyes burning with conviction. 

“You should tell him, tell Will that you’re his omega. If he can accept me after what I did with my father, he can accept all of you.”

Matthew’s breath caught at her words and he gave her a smile that trembled with repressed emotions. His throat was tight so he nodded. Satisfied for now, Abigail nodded back, turning on her side, burrowing deeper into her nest and pulling the quilt over her head. Heart full of love and a growing hope, Matthew clicked the light off and gently closed her door behind him. 

*** 

Matthew knew that it took exactly twenty-four hours for his suppressants to wear off. He’d been on them for long enough, had experimented for years and he felt confident that he could time his plan perfectly. He was due to work an overnight shift and he skipped his pill after bringing Abigail home. She was right and Matthew was sick of dealing with the unknown, sick of the constant worry and angst that came with having a one sided bond with his alpha. 

He trusted Abigail. She knew Will on a deeper level and if she thought that things would turn out well, that they could be a family, a real pack, then Matthew owed it to her to try. He was most comfortable in the shadows, watching and learning unseen but for Abigail, for Will, he would step into the light and take a risk. 

The stars seemed to align for Matthew at work. Night shift had a quarter of the usual staff working and it was easy to go the full twelve hours without meeting anyone but his patients. He double dosed his beta spray but even under that, Matthew could smell his own sweet omega scent. It was a bit more cloying than Matthew remembered and he wondered briefly, as he made his way to Will’s cell, if his body was desperately pumping out pheromones to call his alpha to him. No matter the reason, it could only help his mission: get Will to recognize his omega and scent bond with Matthew. 

As he approached Will’s cell to bring him his dinner, Matthew was surprised to see his alpha up and pacing, looking haggard and agitated. He felt a sudden dread at the sight but four, almost five days without seeing Will had him hurrying forward, yearning to scent his alpha, touch him, smooth his hair back and rub the tension from his shoulders.   
His thoughts were so omegan that he stumbled, shocked to feel something so overwhelmingly...domestic. Things had changed so much over the last two months that he felt almost like a completely different person. He was surprised to find that he didn’t hate it, he was happier, more fulfilled, a lot more stable. 

Will rounded on him with a snarl and Matthew froze, wide eyed as he slid the tray of food through the slot in the glass. They stared at each other for a moment and then Will took three steps forward, scenting the air, pressing close to the glass. Matthew’s pulse sped up, heart pounding and he held his breath, waiting for Will’s reaction. Instead of Will’s eyes flaring alpha red and demanding that Matthew come to him with a possessive growl, Will turned and paced back to his previous position, speaking to Matthew over his shoulder. 

“Excuse me, Matthew. I’m still a little...on edge from my rut. Chilton said I would have a visitor later. I suppose I’m a little excited about that, as well.”

Matthew let out his breath, slow and controlled, not wanting Will to sense his crushing disappointment, his absolute heartache. Was this a rejection? Had Will scented him and not recognized his mate? His limbs were heavy, mind dulled as he watched Will eat, only remembering after Will took a few bites that he still had to hand over the alpha’s medication doses.

He had pocketed the white plastic pill container, his hands too full to balance the tray and swiping past security. He pulled them out now, feeling Will’s eyes on his every movement but trying his best not to break down in despair. He would have time to do that later, at home, with his pack. He shook out the unassuming white tablets, counting one more than usual. He studied the new medication, a faint flare of hope and recognition taking root in his chest, spreading warmth to his cold heart. He hummed, trying to look casual, as if Will’s response didn’t mean everything. 

“New pills for ya, Will? I don’t remember this one.”

He looked up from studying the medication to see Will roll his eyes, looking amused and maybe the slightest bit embarrassed. 

“Yes, the strength and speed of my rut took everyone by surprise, especially me. I forget the name of it but it’s supposed to help.”

Will paused, biting his lip before, with obvious effort, he met Matthew’s eyes, his fists clenched, resting rigidly on his knees. Like every other time, Matthew’s breath caught, his heart pounding. His alpha was so beautiful. 

“I really am sorry about what happened in the showers. I don’t remember much, just flashes but Chilton said I attacked you, tried to force myself on you.”

Will laughed, sounding hollow and disgusted. 

“It’s always been a point of pride for me, fighting and winning over my instincts and to hear that I let them take over, that I almost irreversibly hurt you...I’m sorry.” 

Shocked, Matthew stood in silence, watching as Will looked away, back to his tray, pushing his food around on his plate without enthusiasm. His posture was still tense, as if he were waiting for the hammer to fall, waiting for Matthew to spit in his eye and call him names. Never, in all of Matthew’s long, arduous life, had an alpha apologized to him for any reason. His throat closed, a sob begging to be released, tears gathering in his eyes. 

If he had doubted Will’s worth, even a little, for not being the Chesapeake Ripper, those unworthy thoughts had been destroyed, smashed to pieces with one heartfelt, stumbling apology. No one, certainly never an alpha, had ever given so much thought to Matthew and his autonomy. A different, lesser alpha would have blamed their instincts and left it at that, taking no real responsibility for their actions. 

Matthew cleared his throat and placed the pills in the slot, closing it and pushing on the handle so that Will could access them. Will looked so hesitant, so small. 

“I forgive you, Will. It takes courage for a person to admit when they’re wrong, when they’ve fucked up. I don’t know if Chilton told you but you stopped before you could hurt me. You held back and told me to leave, even as you were fighting an intense, overwhelming rut. You’re strong, Will. Stronger than what others realize, stronger than even you realize. Always remember that.”

Matthew looked up at the end of his little speech to see Will gazing at him, looking pole-axed. The alpha shook his head, laughing softly, eyes gleaming with an emotion that Matthew couldn’t place, had never seen directed at him. 

“When did you get so wise?”

Matthew smirked, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“I’ve always been pretty fucking great, Will. You’ve just never noticed before.”

With that parting shot, Matthew turned and left, too afraid to see Will’s reaction and burning to find out if his hunch about Will’s medication was correct.

***

The hospital clinic was a breeze to infiltrate so late in night shift and Matthew easily located Will’s file. He shuffled through it, thankful that the BSHCI still relied heavily on written files and not a more complex, password protected online system. His hunch was right. 

The new medication that Will was on had the common side effect of scent suppression, dulling the detection of hormones and pheromones to almost nonexistence. Will had been trying to scent Matthew but failed, the alpha hadn’t rejected Matthew. The rush of relief was instantaneous, making him light headed and giddy. He had a new problem now, one that he wasn’t sure had a solution, other than to stop giving Will his medication. Was the subterfuge worth it when Will could possibly suffer from a placebo? 

Will’s ruts off this particular medication would be brutal, especially with no mate to ease him through it, to soothe him with their scent and touch. It was meant to be used for three rut cyles, three months according to Will’s medical file. The alpha had one rut a month, like Matthew had one heat a month. The synchronicity made Matthew smile, any connection to his alpha was a comfort. Then after three cycles, Will was to be weaned slowly from the medication, with the intent that his cycles would be back to normal, before he had abused his suppressants so harshly to keep his alpha instincts caged. 

It was a confusing dilemma for Matthew. Refusing Will his medication meant that his alpha would be able to scent Matthew, recognize his omega. Any resulting rut would be spent with Matthew. But...doing this without Will’s consent made Matthew feel disgusting, made him no better than every alpha out there that treated him like property and paid no thought to his own wants and desires. 

He was at an impasse. He wanted to be with his alpha desperately but was he willing to hurt Will to achieve that? Didn’t that make him no better than Hannibal? It hadn’t gotten Hannibal very far, acting on his own selfish desires with little thought to what Will wanted.

He had another option; he could wait it out. Wait for three months for Will to go through his medication and hope that his rut cycle evened out and present himself to his alpha then. It would be torturous for Matthew but seemed kinder to Will, in the end. 

***

Later, as Matthew escorted Will to the visitor’s room, the last thing on his mind was the difficult choice he had ahead of him. He watched with growing anxiety and nausea as Alana leaned intimately into Will’s personal space, heads together, speaking too low for him to hear. He saw with a bolt of pure agony, Alana placing her soft, beautiful hand on Will’s, leaving it there as they spoke, their smiles hinting at a long friendship. 

Will looked so pleased, so soft and concerned that Matthew wanted to burn the hospital to the ground. He couldn’t decide if he would leave Will in the building to burn next to his precious Alana or drag him outside into the cold, ash filled air to watch her be set alight. 

His righteous fantasy was so vivid, so visceral that Matthew startled out of his daze, slumped in the corridor outside the visitor’s room. He straightened his posture, keeping still, focusing all of his attention inward and felt it; the hot, creeping crawl of violence set loose. The tell tale sign of his approaching heat, much too early, only a week from his last. His body was in distress, his hormones working overtime to draw his alpha to him, so close yet so far. 

One missed suppressant dose and prolonged exposure to Will was enough to fling him into another heat. He wasn’t ready, had no plan in place for Abigail and the pack. He sure as shit couldn’t bring a dangerous alpha in to his den, an unknown in the middle of his vulnerable family. He thought he had time before his next heat but with his preheat symptoms burning through him, Matthew had no choice. He had to take care of this before his heat hit full force. He refused to go through two unsatisfied heats back to back. 

***

Matthew was still driving his nice rental car, too pleased with how good it felt to be out of his piece of shit car that he gave in to the temptation to keep it a little longer. It was risky, a long shot that this car would be connected to Hannibal. What if Hannibal had noticed the car? Made note of the license plate and tracked him down, on the off chance that Abigail was with the driver of said car? Had Hannibal even returned from where he had disappeared to? 

A flash of burning, cramping heat tore through Matthew, making him groan and jerk the wheel. He corrected it on instinct, pressing the heel of his hand against his filling cock. The arousal that followed the pain was worse, a slow, soft ache that would grow into a wildfire of need in the next few hours. He didn’t have time to worry about Hannibal now. He had to find an alpha and lure them back to his motel room. 

When he had first arrived in Baltimore, penniless and lost, he had skipped around, living in motels for a few nights at a time until he landed a job. He knew the area, poor and derelict, knew that the authorities never did sweeps and were slow to respond to suspicious activity. He paid in cash, keeping his face obscured by the hood on his jacket and made sure his parking space was around the back of the building and directly in front of his door. 

Matthew had done this a few times before, spent his heats with an unfortunate partner, when he lacked a permanent den. He would have to, carefully, do so again but this time, he had so much more to lose if he was caught. 

Abigail took the news poorly that he was spending the night away. He hadn’t told her of his plan or that he was going into heat. He had never had a pack, never spent his heat around someone who wasn’t potential mate turned prey. What if he hurt her? 

She had been too quiet on the phone. She was too damn smart, Matthew was sure she knew it all anyway. She wouldn’t let him off the phone without telling her where he was going and distracted and dizzy from his symptoms he had told her the truth. He was going to a bar, to a shitty little dive where no one would pay any attention to who he took home or the fact that his guest would never be seen again. 

***

The bar was dark, dingy and perfect. Matthew’s gut twisted, this time with excitement for the actions to come. He felt more alive on the hunt, senses sharpened, muscles ready to strike at a moment’s notice. He kept his hood drawn up until he reached the bar, unzipping his jacket and throwing it over the counter, sinking down slowly on the stool, eyes taking in the other patrons. It was a busy night, loud and obnoxious, perfect for Matthew to blend into the crowd, perfect for plucking an asshole alpha up and dragging them to the motel. 

Two shots of bourbon and fifteen minutes later, Matthew was ready to slink out the door and walk the two blocks to another shit hole dive. Even pumping out heat pheromones, no one had approached him. The other patrons were too distracted by a bar fight that had broken out to pay him much mind. 

Two lumbering, muscular alphas were fighting over a bored looking omega and Matthew decided to stay a few minutes more, watching the smaller alpha break a beer bottle over his opponents’ head. Glass flew and blood flowed and Matthew smiled, flaring his nostrils at the smell, his cock filling and his hole growing slick at the coppery tang in the air. 

A body leaned on the bar in front of him, blocking his view of the fight with a broad chest and Matthew growled low, meeting the interlopers eyes. He had to viciously cull the urge to lean forward and tear the man’s throat open with his petite omega fangs. The musky smell of alpha stopped his violent action dead and Matthew forced his body to relax and fake an airy openness that would draw the man closer. It worked and the guy smirked, setting off faint alarm bells in Matthew’s head. He looked familiar. The guy chucked him under the chin and Matthew saw red for an instant. 

“Hey, little thing. Name’s Andrew. You know, you’re prettier when you smile.”

Motherfucker. Matthew’s answering smile felt more shark-like than he had intended but the alpha didn’t take notice. Matthew forced out a smooth, flirty chuckle and ran his finger over the man’s forearm, sitting on top of the counter. The alpha was boxing him in, cornering a predator and Matthew was dying to lash out. 

“Aww! That’s so nice. What’s a big, bad alpha like you doing in a place like this?”

The guy smiled, alpha canines on full display and Matthew wished the sight of them did something for him. He didn’t want to show his neck and beg for his bite, he wanted to rip them from the idiot’s head, make a fucking necklace. His omega was whispering; unworthy, unworthy.

“I was actually thinking the same thing about you. You look too sweet for this rabble.”

He waved his hand around, a condescending smirk on his face. The tug of familiarity still lingered and Matthew couldn’t resist it. He leaned closer to the alpha, until he could feel the heat from his body, leaching into his own. Andrew’s eyes sparkled and he leaned closer too, no hint in his posture that he considered Matthew a threat. So stupid. 

“Thank you, alpha. You look so familiar. Are you famous?” 

Matthew bit his lip and looked up at Andrew from under his lashes, acting shy. The alpha ate it up, laying a hand on Matthew’s thigh, squeezing tight. Matthew wanted to break his wrist. 

“Nah, not really. You may have seen me on t.v. though. I did an interview about the Chesapeake Ripper case, I worked on it.”

Matthew gasped, looking impressed. ‘Worked on the case’. What self aggrandizing crap. 

“I remember that! You’re the little bailiff!”

Andrew frowned, pulling his shoulders back and flashing his eyes at Matthew. He forced himself to break eye contact, whining in apology. Andrew huffed. 

“I am an important part of the judicial system, little one. Listen, I didn’t come over here to talk about my job. I can smell you, omega. I know what you really want and I’m gonna give it to you.”

Andrew reached out and took the shot of bourbon out of Matthew’s hand, throwing it back and swallowing loudly. Matthew ground his teeth together. What a rude asshole. 

“You’re right, alpha. Let’s go back to mine and you can give me what I really need.”

***

It wasn’t much of a fight for dominance. Andrew was more drunk than he let on and once they cleared the doorway to Matthew’s motel room, the alpha was on him, pawing and ripping at his clothes. Matthew didn’t have the patience to let the alpha fight back much. In the past, he had enjoyed drawing it out, letting his prey think they had a chance to win, circling and playing with his kill. 

Now, frustrated and pining for his alpha, Matthew’s opening attack was swift and vicious, his knife slicing through Andrew’s abdomen before the alpha could process the turn their encounter had taken. He got in a few hits, Matthew knew he’d have a black eye but the alpha went down fast and hard, blood spraying in a bright red arch across the tiled bathroom wall. 

Andrew’s body was slumped in the tub, eyes vacant and staring but the death of the alpha had not cleared his heat violence. He still burned, aroused and angry, wanting to fuck and wanting to kill. Had the fight not been enough? Any longer and Matthew risked people hearing.

The white tile and dead silence that followed the alpha’s death drew to his mind Hannibal’s basement and the three standing freezers full of meat. Without thought, out of pure instinct, Matthew knelt and started tearing at the alpha’s soft stomach and back. He had never done this before, looked so deep inside his prey and the only thing he recognized was the liver. He tore at it, clumsy and desperate, mouth already salivating and brought the jagged meat to his lips. He breathed deep, knowing what he had to do, anticipation burning all thoughts and hesitation away. 

His tongue was first, swiping over the smooth organ, licking away the dark blood. The tang of it was a shock but it set off the nerves in his brain, sending lightening through his body. He growled, pleased and bit into the liver, rending it with his omega fangs, chewing and swallowing with a glowing reverence he had never before experienced. His head was clearing with each new mouthful, his heat abating, leaving him fully aware. 

Blinking back to reality, Matthew took stock. He was knelt, arms and face covered in thick, fragrant blood, hands full of the alpha’s liver. He should be horrified, shouldn’t he? Disgusted and frightened? He wasn’t. Matthew felt...powerful, a low omega purr rattling through his body and echoing throughout the room. 

Matthew laughed, squeezing the liver until it squished through his fingers. He had never purred before, had never thought himself capable of it, had written it off as a myth. Omegas were said to purr when happy, safe or particularly content. He purred louder, dropping what remained of the liver and licking the blood off of his fingers. Not even the frantic sound of pounding on his motel door stuttered the rumble in his chest.


	6. Matthew Resolves to Prove Himself

Matthew didn't bother trying to clean up the bathroom or himself before he walked calmly to the motel door, still shaking under the insistent knocking. He knew who was on the other side, could feel her fear and worry through their growing pack bond. Abigail barely paused as he swung open the door, staying behind it to hide his state as much as he could. She stormed forward, looking frazzled, eyes glowing with a determination that Matthew couldn't find a reason for. She waited for the door to close with a soft click before she spoke.

"Damn it, Matty. You can't just do that, you can't disappear."

She stopped her growing tirade abruptly as she turned to face him and Matthew kept to the shadows, even knowing it wouldn't hide the blood and viscera that painted him. He wasn't ashamed of his actions but he had never shared this part of himself with anyone before.

"Oh, shit."

Her voice was low and breathy, eyes wide and she stepped forward, raising a hand to touch his cheek. Her fingers slid in the tacky blood there and she quirked her lips, a mischievous look in her eyes. 

"Well, it's a good thing I came to find you, huh? You made a mess."

Matthew blinked and then grinned, feeling light and happy. He felt safer with his pack, his heat a faint simmer thanks to the fresh liver in his belly. He leaned his face into her palm.

"Sorry, kid. I wasn't exactly thinking clearly."

She sighed.

"I get it, Matty. But for the future, always come to me when you’re in distress." 

Matthew shifted from one foot to the other, feeling warmth spread through him. To have someone to rely on was a novelty he felt he would never grow used to.

"Yeah, well, ditto, Abs."

She laughed and let her hand fall, turning to take in the room. Matthew did the same, only now noticing the blood trail leading to the bathroom. She turned to look over her shoulder at him, lifting an amused eyebrow before following the blood, disappearing into the brightly lit bathroom.

He followed her in a slight daze, amazed by how calm she was, body exhausted despite the abating hormones. All he wanted to do was go home, drag his daughter in his nest to cuddle and sleep for the next twenty four hours. But…

Abigail was frozen in front of the alpha’s body, staring at the clawed open abdomen and side. Matthew glanced at the mirror, biting his lip as he took in the blood smeared over his face. It was obvious what had happened. 

"You failed to mention the part of your heat rage that involved...cannibalism." 

She was side eyeing him and he grinned, shrugging his shoulders in what he knew was a charming and helpless way. 

"It was just something I felt compelled to do. Wait, that's a lie, sorry. It was because of…" 

She turned to face him fully, foot slipping a little on the bloody floor. She caught herself easily, studying him with a wry, knowing expression that put him on edge. 

"Wow, you haven't even met Hannibal in person and you're already taking inspiration from him."

Matthew growled low, flashing his canines in a mock threat. He resented the fact that he let any part of Hannibal reach his subconscious heat crazed mind. The fact that killing and consuming the alpha's liver had satisfied his heat was galling. He shouldn't be thinking about anyone other than Will while in heat. Why couldn't he get Hannibal out of his mind?

Abigail held up her hands, shaking her head. She stepped closer to him and took his face between her hands, moving him this way and that, looking concerned. 

"You're not hurt, are you?"

Matthew smiled, touched and honored to be on the receiving end of her nurturing. He couldn't remember the last time someone had treated him as something to be protected. Will, maybe, distantly was concerned about his welfare but Matthew considered the possibility that his alpha only did so subconsciously, not realizing the reason for his preoccupation with Matthew. He grabbed Abigail's wrists gently. 

"I'm not hurt, kiddo. It would take more than that sad excuse of an alpha to best me." 

She laughed low and toed at a bit of liver near their feet. 

"Obviously." 

They smiled at each other for a moment, lost in their strengthening pack bond before Abigail shook her head. 

“Who is this guy anyway? Complete rando?”

“Actually, he’s, uh, the bailiff that was on Will’s case. He did interviews after, about how he was up close and personal with the Chesapeake Ripper.”

She raised her eyebrows in surprise, turning to face Matthew again. 

“And he still has a job?”

Matthew shrugged. 

“No idea. It was a chance meeting, really. At the bar. Once I recognized him, I couldn’t resist.” 

She nodded and her eyes slid past him again in what Matthew was coming to realize was her ‘thinking face’. Matthew left her alone, stepping around her to gaze at the dead alpha, shaking his head at seeing the mess without the fog of his heat. He was amazed how quickly his heat had abated after a few bites of the liver. He had never heard of another heat crazed omega consuming their kills, most got put down immediately by police or their mates. 

And after, no one spoke of them again, as if to do so would incite other omega’s to act similarly. There was so much he didn’t know about his instincts and it was endlessly frustrating. Did he even really care to know? Matthew was a practical man, seeing solutions and going through efficient motions to achieve his ends. Did it really fucking matter if he knew the ‘why’? 

Abigail let out a breathy laugh and he turned back to her, forgetting his musings at the manic bright eyed look she turned on him. 

“I have the best idea…”

***

He had to admit that it was a good idea. Matthew stepped back, coming to stand beside Abigail and crossed his arms, mimicking her posture. The soft ‘swish’ of the plastic protective suits they wore sounded through the silent room as they moved. They both stared at the impressive sight before them. 

They had transported the alpha’s body to his apartment, obtaining the address by a quick search through his belongings. It was Abigail’s plan and he followed her directions to the letter, staying mostly silent as they staged the body. The alpha’s clothes had been exchanged for his bailiff uniform and Abigail had known exactly where to go to obtain the antlers for the rack they had created. The alpha was mounted, impaled thoroughly, hanging limply, forever impotent. 

The M.O. screamed of Abigail’s influence and Matthew was content to leave it at that, for Will to have a clear sign that his surrogate daughter was alive and well, killing and mounting unworthy prey. But she had insisted that Matthew put his own flare onto the design, a message to Will that Abigail wasn’t alone. 

Abigail tipped her head and squinted. 

“Nice touch with the Glasgow smile.”

Matthew smirked. 

“When we met he said I’d look prettier if I smiled.”

Abigail made a disgusted noise. 

“Gross. Not really a signature though.”

“I’m sure we’ll have more...opportunities to figure out my calling card. Plenty of shit for brain alphas out there practically begging for my blade. Or, the liver was quite delicious.   
I could go for another.”

Abigail hummed and bumped her shoulder into his, grinning. 

“I vote some form of castration.”

Matthew’s eyes lit up as he smiled back. 

“I like the way you think.”

Abigail bit her lip, shifting restlessly. 

“What is it?”

She blew out a loud breath. 

“I’m nervous. Will isn’t the only one that will know what this means. Hannibal will easily figure out that I stuck close and I’m killing with a partner. He’ll catch up to us...to you.”

Matthew considered that carefully, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. 

“Well, we just have to stay one step ahead of him, right? He has no idea who you’re working with or where your home base is. I’ll do everything I can to protect you.”

She turned to him, her face earnest, her scent agitated. 

“You don’t understand how dangerous Hannibal is. You won’t know until you have to face him. He keeps so many things, so many facets of himself hidden. I don’t even think he knows what’s the real him and what’s not. The only thing he is sure of is his obsessive love for Will.”

“And Will, does he return the fascination?”

She looked at him with a mixture of exasperation and pity. 

“I think you know the answer to that. I’m telling you now, Matty, there is no Will without Hannibal. Not anymore, it’s too late to separate them.”

Matthew shook his head, feeling lightheaded, chest clenching in anxiety.

“I, I don’t understand. You’re saying there is no hope for me to mate with Will? You’re the one that has been encouraging this unusual courtship, Abigail. Have you been fucking with me this whole time?”

She gave a sigh and stepped away, shaking her head as she gathered up their supplies and double checked for left evidence. 

“It’s...complicated, Matty. I don’t think you’re ready to hear the truth. Not yet.”

He opened his mouth to argue but stopped, feeling so tired, limbs too heavy, eyes drooping. He needed to think about this cryptic bullshit Abigail was spouting but more importantly, he had to sleep and recover. Despite hiding things from him, Matthew could feel through their pack bond that Abigail meant no harm to him, was only acting out of love and concern. He let that comfort him as they drove separate cars home. What he sensed over the bond couldn’t be faked, a pack bond never lied.

He was clingy that night, dragging Abigail into his nest and cuddling until the tension in his chest loosened and contentment carried them both into a deep sleep. The only thing missing was their alpha. 

***

Matthew awoke to an empty nest with a raging headache and the delicious smell of cooking meat. He groaned and rolled out of bed to stumble to the bathroom. The mirror hid nothing from his rapidly focusing eyes and he grimaced at the obvious bruising around his eye. Damn fucking piece of shit alpha. It would make people question him. He had to think of a good excuse. 

Abigail was finishing up breakfast when he made it out of the bedroom. She was humming low as she worked to set the table and plate the food. Upon seeing him, she beamed widely and gestured to the empty seat across from her. 

“Morning, Matty! I always enjoy a greasy meal after my heat so I made fried steak and hashbrowns for breakfast.”

Matthew sat down slowly, taking in the sight before him, noticing the tell tale crumpled butcher paper hanging half out of the trashcan. 

“Wow, thanks, kiddo. Is this steak a la Casa Lecter?”

She gave an impish grin and didn’t answer as she turned away, flipping the breaded meat in the pan on the stove. 

“It seemed to help your heat symptoms so I thought it would do the same for your post heat fugue. And, look!”

She spun around again to slap the morning paper on the table before him. The front page was emblazoned with a screaming headline about the murder and staging of Andrew Sykes. Matthew chuckled as he read, already imagining what utter tripe Freddie Lounds had cooked up on TattleCrime. 

“This should get Will’s attention.”

She nodded enthusiastically as she slid the meat onto Matthew’s plate, shooing the kittens off the table. Harley sat at the opposite end of the table, begging with sad, brown eyes. Matthew snuck her a piece of fried potato when Abigail wasn’t looking. Abigail fell into the chair across from him, squirting an alarming amount of ketchup onto her hashbrowns and taking a sip of her coffee. 

“If Will is smart, like I know he is, he’ll see his pack calling to him.”

Matthew took a big bite, humming in delight at the taste. He was fast becoming addicted to this new source of meat. It would be hard to go back to beef after they ran out of   
what he stole from Hannibal’s basement. He quirked an eyebrow at her. 

“And if he doesn’t see that?”

She scoffed, sawing angrily into the meat on her plate, voice imperious, nose in the air as she answered. 

“Then he is an idiot and we are better off without him.”

Matthew laughed. 

“Just me and you, huh, kid? That’s all we really need.”

She sobered, tracing shapes into the excess ketchup on her plate. 

“That’s all we need but not all we want…”

She gave Matthew a strained smile, scent going sour and burnt. His own hormones responded to her distress, battling against his extra dose of suppressants from last night. He reached his hand across the table and she grasped it immediately. 

“Even without an alpha, I still consider us a pack, Matty.”

Abigail swallowed heavily, gathering her thoughts. Matthew stayed silent, waiting patiently. 

“I love Will, I miss him...and Hannibal. I wanted more than anything for the three of us to be a family, a pack. Now, I want that with you as well. You fit so well next to me, next to all of us.”

Matthew raised her hand and laid a gentle kiss on her knuckles, feeling sick. 

“Hannibal can’t be trusted, Abs.”

She nodded and pulled on his arm until he stood, side stepping the table and pulling her to her feet and into his arms. She buried her head in his chest, shaking. Matthew felt a sudden, awful hatred for Hannibal rise in him. The bastard didn’t even know what he had thrown away, how lucky he had been before he ruined his pack. Hannibal didn’t deserve Abigail or Will and he’d have to go through Matthew to get them back. 

***

“What the fuck is wrong with me?”

Matthew muttered bitterly to himself as he sat outside of Hannibal’s house. He was angry at himself and at Hannibal but there was an instinctual pull to seek out Hannibal, to see him. Was it the pack bond? Was he feeling Abigail and Will’s suppressed longing for Hannibal, for their missing pack member? Pack wasn’t always logical and Matthew was suffering for it. His bond to Will, as the alpha’s mate, wasn’t even consummated. 

He hadn’t been given a mating bite, hadn’t taken Will’s knot or spent his heat with him. Why the fuck was Hannibal calling to him? Especially when all he really wanted was to kill the stupid bastard. Who had a man like Will and a daughter like Abigail and ruined it intentionally? A sick fuck was who, one who didn’t deserve a second chance. 

But at the moment, Matthew was a slave to his instincts, fresh off his heat, one that had alarming connections to Hannibal. Would Matthew have thought to consume his victims had Hannibal not, indirectly, come into his life. It had been so freeing, so bone deep satisfying opening up that alpha’s abdomen, clawing out his liver and eating it. His omega was very pleased and it irked Matthew because all credit was due to Hannibal, his out of orbit pack member. 

Did Hannibal even give a shit that Abigail was missing? That he had hurt Will, convinced all of Will’s closest friends that the alpha was a psychopath and a murderer? Did the monster feel regret? Love? Abigail spoke of Hannibal and Will as if they were mates. 

What was Hannibal’s true designation? He lived as a null, even his paperwork and birth certificate listed his gender as N/A. It was rare to be unpresented but not impossible.   
Matthew should hate Hannibal and he did but...there were other feelings mixed up in it too. It was hard to parse what was his and what was his pack’s, especially around his volatile heat. This was exactly what his alpha was for, holding him, grounding him, protecting him. But his alpha was out of his reach, behind cement walls, glass cages and too many eyes and Abigail couldn’t offer him what his alpha could. And Hannibal, well, if he approached Hannibal, there was no doubt that the man would not hesitate to kill Matthew. 

It was well after 2 a.m. when Matthew gave up on his sulking and resolved to go home to Abigail and make apology waffles. He had left in a hurry, making weak excuses of having to run errands, restless and seeking...something. Comfort? Answers? Space? He had no experience with pack, had never been accepted into one. Always on the fringes of society, never learning how to connect. He was lost and he needed his alpha to guide him. This whole situation was so fucked, like every part of his life until now. 

He reached to start the car, leave and never seek out Hannibal ever again when the front door opened and the man himself stepped out. He looked relaxed, casual but something in Matthew perked up, paid attention. He fumbled for the binoculars. 

There was a subtle tension to Hannibal that most wouldn’t notice but Matthew saw it clearly. The man was up to something and Matthew burned to know. He manually opened his garage door and ducked inside, a flood of headlights following soon after as Hannibal drove away in a black van. Of course, like a reckless idiot, Matthew had to follow him. Was Hannibal up to his Ripper mischief? The thought of seeing his inner slayer in action was too much to resist. 

Matthew followed Hannibal at a safe distance until the man turned off the well lit main roads. This late at night, Hannibal would know he was being followed if Matthew persisted. He pulled over near the turn off Hannibal had taken and waited a few minutes, car off and lights extinguished, waiting to see if the other man would double back. He didn’t and Matthew followed the small, unmarked road past the edge of town and out into the creepy darkness. 

Matthew was a city man at heart and felt a great unease as the lights of Baltimore grew further away in his rearview mirror. But the allure of Hannibal was too great and he drove on, heart beating fast and breath quickening at the mystery that lay before him. What was Hannibal up to? It had to be deliciously nefarious. 

Not too far outside of the city, a white building rose over the horizon, rounded in structure. A worn sign by the road announced it to be an observatory. Matthew scoffed and squinted up at the stars. Had Hannibal turned in here? 

He parked down the road, hiding his car as far into the trees as the ground allowed, thankful he still had his rental. If his hobby of stalking continued, maybe he should invest in something with a dependable four wheel drive…

The black van was parked outside of the observatory but there was no Hannibal. The double back doors of the van were wide open but Matthew refused the siren call to investigate. He sat at the edge of the tree line and waited, glancing at his watch every few minutes for a solid hour. What the hell was Hannibal doing? 

Matthew was impulsive, impatient and too damn curious, rolling his eyes at how foolish he was even as he crept up to the wall of dirty windows near the ground and risked a look inside. There were two gas lamps lit, sitting on the floor and Matthew tracked the shadows Hannibal created as he moved. It took a long, agonizing moment for his eyes to adjust and when they did, he almost gasped out loud. He pressed his hand over his mouth to stifle a hysterical giggle and pressed closer to the window, wishing he could wipe away the smudges on the inside that obstructed his view. 

Hannibal was creating a...masterpiece. The man was focused, his face a study of pleased rapture as he worked, lifting and rolling large glass sections and placing them to his unknown specifications. He had his jacket off and he had rolled up the sleeves of his button down. Matthew swallowed thickly, entranced by the play of muscle over his straining forearms. The strength of Hannibal was shocking, what else did the man hide under his hideous suits? Matthew watched in silent awe, wishing fervently he could get closer, see more clearly, hear Hannibal’s inner monologue, his deepest, darkest thoughts. 

Matthew cursed and ducked down out of sight, feeling the tell tale sign of slick and gripped his hardening cock. Why did Hannibal affect him so physically, why did he attract Matthew like a moth to flame? The competence, the skill, the inspiration in Hannibal’s work was breathtaking. Matthew was all at once jealous, turned on and frustrated. Had Will seen Hannibal like this, so controlled, so fucking irresistible.

He felt it again, that hook, digging into his chest, spearing his heart and pulling. He couldn’t blame his attraction on the pack bond anymore, not after seeing this. The artistry Hannibal showed was fascinating and the feral beast under his bland facade was beautiful. He was impressive, the ultimate predator. Powerful and devastating. 

Matthew’s omega purred inside of him, pushing, urging him forward, towards Hannibal. With that power, Hannibal could protect his mate, his pups against any threat. His omega didn't care if Hannibal was a null, that he could never knot Matthew and could only offer half a mating bond. He would make Matthew submit, would fiercely defend his pack...

He forced his hands away from his body, feeling sick with guilt and angry at himself. Hannibal didn’t deserve his admiration, the man had done his damnedest to destroy Will and Abigail’s lives and for what? Boredom? Self preservation? Hannibal had shown how disposable his pack was. 

Matthew shook his head roughly, slick still gathering, soaking his underwear and gripped the ledge of the window, raising his head again to look. Hannibal’s broad back was to him now, spinning around the last piece to his tableau. A face was revealed, the latest unfortunate victim sacrificed to a cruel god; Beverly Katz. 

Matthew ducked back down, chest burning and stomach roiling. He cursed softly, sneaking away back to the treeline, arousal gone and a cold sweat soaking his shirt. 

Fuck, fuck, Will was going to be so pissed. Hannibal kept digging his own grave deeper and deeper. 

*** 

Matthew was on edge all night, watching Will watch him. There was something different, a charged atmosphere between them that had Matthew’s instincts screaming at him. Will usually ignored him outside of the showers, the only time they were truly alone, no eyes to see them. Matthew assumed it was to throw off Chilton, to not give away that the two of them were closer than their professional relationship. He was an agent for Will after all. He couldn’t be very useful if people were suspicious. 

Matthew shook his head and continued down the corridor, bringing Will his dinner. His frustration was making him bitter. He was probably just being paranoid or maybe Will was starting to pay better attention. If their situations were reversed, Matthew would have taken a step back to reevaluate the people around him, especially after the death of the bailiff and Katz. 

Shit. Matthew gripped the plastic tray tighter, ducking his head to avoid the cameras out of habit. Was that the reason Will was looking at him so intensely, like a predator observing possible prey? Did he suspect Matthew of Katz’s death? Nothing would be worse right now, in this storm of bullshit than Will seeking revenge against his omega. Would it even matter that Matthew was his destined mate if he suspected betrayal? 

And the bailiff...had Will seen Abigail in the details? They had done everything short of carving her name into the body to get Will’s attention. 

Matthew pursed his lips and cleared his expression as he grew closer to his alpha. Will was being so quiet, it was unsettling not to share little jokes with him, smirk together at the guards, complain about the hospitality. Will had always indulged Matthew these things. To have his attitude change so abruptly sent alarm bells ringing in his head. He couldn’t do anything about it now, not while the cameras were active and the guards were patrolling. He would have to wait until Will’s nightly shower. 

“Honey, I’m home! And looky here, I brought you the best of my home cooking.”

His lopsided grin went ignored and Matthew felt it slide off his face with a grimace. Will said nothing, just continued to lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling. Matthew didn’t pause, refused to show how much Will was hurting him and strode into the cell, setting the tray down with a soft clatter. He darted a gaze to Will and cleared his throat. 

“Right, so...I’ll leave you to it and come back in an hour to escort you to the showers…”

Will didn’t respond but he did turn his head to look at Matthew, eyes blazing with an emotion Matthew couldn’t place. It almost seemed like...jealousy? No, that couldn’t be right.   
He backed out of the cell, throwing a jaunty salute to Will before striding away, posture loose. This silence was agonizing. 

***

The door to the showers had barely closed before Will was on him, crowding him back against the wall, eyes darting over his body. The instinct to fight flared up first and Matthew tensed, ready to react but his alpha only laid gentle fingers on his cheek. Will’s nostrils flared wide and he snarled, growling low. The dark sound made Matthew shudder and he submitted immediately, almost purring under the attention, eyes half shut. 

“Your eye…”

Will’s voice was deep, his tone concerned. Matthew swallowed thickly and looked down at their feet, embarrassed. He had forgotten the bruise. 

“Yeah, ah, some alpha dickhead at the bar the other night got in my face. I made him pay for it though.”

Matthew smirked and raised his eyes to meet Will’s, feeling shy and proud. Will returned his smirk with one of his own and came closer, his fingers caressing the line of Matthew’s cheek and down, over his jaw and his neck. Matthew’s breath caught, pleased by the attention but nervous to have Will so close to his bonding glands. But Will didn’t linger there, dropping his hand to squeeze Matthew’s bicep, eyes wide and dark, looking at Matthew’s...chin? Lips?

“I bet you did, Matthew. I think you made him bleed for his audacity with your incredible strength. Was he surprised? Did he fight back?”

Matthew shivered at Will’s low, breathy voice, mouth dropping open to scent the air desperately. Will’s scent was rich in the air, smoke and fire and pine needles. He wanted to press forward into his alpha’s arms, bury his face in Will’s neck and lick over the source of that smell. He wasn’t growing slick, not with his suppressants but, god, he wanted to, wanted to be ready for his alpha’s knot. 

This was progress, wasn’t it? Will wanted him, his scent couldn’t lie, couldn’t hide that the thought of Matthew beating an alpha for impertinence made him aroused. It took a moment to realize that Will had asked him a question, was waiting for an answer. 

“Yeah, uh, yeah, he fought back but he was weak...unworthy.”

Will hummed and grinned wider, slowing off his alpha canines. Matthew whined at the sight, so close to his face and raised his limp hands to clutch at Will’s thin white tee shirt. It pulled Will closer and the alpha didn’t fight it, crowding in and slotting a leg between Matthew’s own, pressing up and grinding against Matthew’s groin. Matthew sucked in a sharp breath, his cock filling, his head spinning. Was he still dreaming, hallucinating? 

Will had always controlled their interactions, kept a fair distance between them, seeming hesitant to really trust someone again. It had frustrated Matthew in the beginning but after meeting Abigail and learning about Hannibal, Matthew understood. He had been willing to wait as long as it took to prove to his alpha that he could be trusted, that he would do anything for Will, for even a chance to be his pack. Maybe Abigail was right and there was no fighting biology. Everything would work out as it was meant to. 

Will smiled, a genuine little quirk of his lip at Matthew’s stunned reaction, leaning closer to scent him, kissing softly across Matthew’s cheek to his ear. Matthew whined again, dropping his head to the side, silently begging for more, submitting so easily that his head rushed, making him dizzy. Never once had Matthew wanted to kneel for someone but his omega new that Will would take care of him. 

“I don’t know what it is about you, Matthew. You’re just so-”

Will paused suddenly, leaning back an inch to meet Matthew’s eyes with his own red rimmed ones. He blinked as Will tensed, watching his alpha frown in confusion, still boxing Matthew in with his arms. Will spoke. 

“You smell like…”

Will’s scent was turning sharper, angry and Matthew tensed. Was he sensing Matthew through the suppressants? Will’s gentle grip changed, becoming vice like, rough, holding Matthew still as he leaned in again to breath deep. 

Will’s eyes snapped open and he moved too quick for Matthew to react, his hand coming choke off the omega’s air, head snapping back in vain to escape. But Will had him cornered, body pressed close. Matthew whined high and pawed weakly at Will’s chest, pushing with all his strength but Will was too strong, too angry. The gentle alpha was gone and the man before Matthew was no less alluring. 

He should be able to fight off Will, he had bested stronger alphas before but his body was working against him, instincts calling for him to submit. Alpha wouldn’t hurt him.   
But that was a lie, his biology was fucking stupid because the light in Will’s eyes was feral and his teeth weren’t bared in a mating display. He was ready to rip Matthew’s throat out. Will growled, adding pressure to the hand at Matthew’s throat. 

“Stop fighting me, Matthew.”

His tone was measured, calm but Matthew could see the storm below the surface. He went limp, hoping desperately that he could talk his way out of whatever Will had planned. The pressure eased and Matthew drew in a gasping breath but didn’t fight. He was tired. Tired of fighting his attraction, his obsessive need to be a part of Will’s pack. It would be a fucking relief if Will just killed him, put an end to whatever game he was playing. He couldn’t even fight back against his alpha, how could he measure up to Hannibal, be a real equal in the pack?

“You smell like Abigail, Matthew. You better have a good fucking reason for it.”

Matthew opened his mouth, shocked. How had Will-

Will growled and pulled him forward before slamming him back against the wall again. Matthew huffed, his breath knocked out of him, brain scrambling for a coherent thought. He had not expected this, thought he had been so careful, making sure to hide Abigail from the world. He hadn’t considered that Will or Hannibal, who knew her scent so well, would recognize his connection to her. He reached out, trying to soothe Will but his hands were knocked away with a terrible growl. 

“I swear, alpha, she came with me willingly.”

“What? Explain.” 

Matthew bit his lip hard enough to draw blood. There was so much he was keeping from Will, more than he had truly realized. Where to even start. 

“When Katz came to see you, I overheard you talking about Hannibal Lecter and I...got curious.”

Will reeled back, eyes widening, looking at Matthew as if he had never seen him before. Matthew rolled his eyes. 

“Uh, yeah? Remember the letter you had me deliver? Same kinda thing, really.”

Will opened his mouth only to close it, shaking his head and moving back a pace. He ran his eyes over Matthew, smirking. 

“You crazy bastard. Are you telling me you broke into Hannibal’s den just because you were curious? Do you realize how dangerous he is? That’s...insane.”

The smirk dropped and Will’s eyes slid past him, face distant as he thought. It was so strikingly similar to the ‘thinking look’ that Abigail got that Matthew shivered, home sickness striking him like a bolt of lightning. A moment later, Will’s face grew hard, eyes like steel under the bright fluorescent lighting. 

“Hannibal. He had Abigail? He made me think she was dead, kept her hidden away but why?”

It felt like a rhetorical question but Will was still looking at Matthew so he shrugged. 

“Don’t look at me. You know him better than I ever will. I’ve never even met him. I only know what Abigail has told me and what I can glean from observing the two of you.”

Will hummed, still as a stone, muscles tensed. He obviously still didn’t trust Matthew. 

“Let me see if I have this right. You break into the Chesapeake Ripper’s den, poke around and abscond with Abigail and then force her to help you kill the bailiff that was on my case?”

Matthew growled low, flashing his teeth, feeling his eyes bleed a bright gold. 

“Fuck you, Will. How about we not pretend that Abigail is some fucking swooning maiden. I assure you that staging the bailiff’s body was her idea, a message to her adoptive father that she was still alive.” 

Will studied him, eyes calculating and Matthew could see a hundred and one thoughts flash across his alpha’s eyes.

“And the rest? The mutilation, the missing liver?”

Matthew smirked, crossing his arms and raising his chin. Will laughed and paced away to the other side of the showers, leaving Matthew to slump over, heart racing. The acrid smell of alpha rage was thick in the air, infiltrating every breath, beating Matthew’s omega down. He had never felt so hopeless facing an alpha before. 

Will paced a few steps back to him, rubbing a hand over his grimacing face. It felt almost tangible to Matthew, the way Will connected things, came to the right conclusions quickly, effortlessly. Matthew found himself in awe of his alpha again, a man so complex, so intelligent, so lost looking. Will took a deep breath, seeming to steel his resolve and turned fully to Matthew, pinning him with flashing red eyes. The threat of violence seemed more distant but omnipresent, telling Matthew to tread with care. 

“Jesus...Bev- But no, that has Hannibal fucking written all over it. Are you killing with him, too?”

Matthew shook his head frantically, too emotional, too confused to say anything. Too afraid to say the wrong thing. Will cocked his head to the side, watching every little twitch, every reaction. 

“I still don’t understand. There is something you’re not telling me. It’s easy to assume what someone like you would want with an eighteen year old omega…”

Matthew frowned.

“Someone...like me?”

Will waved an impatient hand, snarling softly. 

“Beta, arrogant, narcissistic, inferiority complex, abused as a child, longer even. In and out of psychiatric hospitals yourself before charming your way into a low level job at the BSHCI. No one sees you, no one cares and then along comes a pretty little omega, a princess in a tower. You saved her from the dragon, does that make you her prince?”  
The cold, creeping icy horror of realization slid down Matthew’s rigid spine. Is that what Will thought of him? A sick, awful man ready to take advantage of the first pretty omega to smile at him? A predator of children? His voice was hoarse when he spoke, tone pleading.

“You’re wrong, Will. I-” 

He shook his head, feeling numb. Will was looking at him impassively, an edge of cruelty to his expression. What would it take to get his alpha to truly see him, to look upon him with kindness and respect? 

“Abigail is like a daughter to me. I’m not a beta, I’m an omega, your omega.”

Will was still, staring at Matthew with confusion that turned to doubt and suspicion.

“I’m not lying, Will. The first moment I saw you, scented you, I bonded to you. I’m yours, alpha.”

Will was shaking his head, looking stunned. 

“Alpha-”

Will held up his hand, face closed off. 

“Stop. I need...time, Matthew. Give me time to think.”

“Right, sure.”

Will didn’t say a word as he followed Matthew back to his cell and headed straight to his bed, laying on his side. He faced away from the glass and disappeared into his head. 

Matthew sighed, feeling helpless and hating it. Will would think what he wanted but at least he had the whole truth. The only thing Matthew could do now was find a way to prove himself as an equal to Will, worthy of being his omega. 

There was only one path ahead; Matthew had to kill Hannibal Lecter and remove his influence permanently from the pack.


	7. Matthew Captures Hannibal, In More Ways Than One

Of course, Matthew couldn't walk down the dangerous path ahead of him without taking some precautions. The most glaring of problems was Abigail and her safety. Hannibal was dangerous and there was no predicting the path his vengeance would take if Matthew failed on his mission to destroy him. Will was limited in his ability to protect his pack, if not outright useless. Matthew had to play this smart, safe. 

“No fucking way, Matty. No!”

Matthew tried to grab her as she pulled away but she shoved his hands away, pacing to lean on the kitchen counter, arms crossed tight, glaring. He hadn’t expected immediate compliance with his plan but he was still stunned by her vehement denial. He sighed and mirrored her posture, trying to stand tall and firm when all he wanted was to curl his shoulders forward and close his eyes. He was so tired but he couldn’t rest until his pack was safe, until he removed the ominous shadow that Hannibal cast over his loved ones. 

“Kid, I know it’s scary, going off on your own-”

“What? You think that’s why I’m so against this stupid plan of yours? Because I’m scared of being on my own, leaving the country?” 

She lunged at him and Matthew startled, suppressing the urge to give ground before her. She poked a hard finger into his chest, making him wince but he kept his silence. Her expression was thunderous but her scent was worried, panicked. He wanted more than anything to comfort her, take her in his arms and promise that they would never be parted but he couldn’t, not now. He was in the right, he was keeping his pack safe. 

“I can take care of myself, Matty. I can leave, start again somewhere else, no problem. I’m smart and cunning and, and- Stop smiling, this isn’t funny!”

Matthew chuckled and reached out to grasp her arms, embracing the love and warmth that flowed over their pack bond. He would miss this but he couldn’t let his neediness, his selfish desire to be loved get in the way of Abigail’s right to thrive. Will would agree with him. 

“Abs, I know those things about you, too. It’s why I’m asking this of you. When I go after Hannibal, when I put myself on his radar, he is going to realize that I took you.   
And...if I fail, he’ll come here, looking. Do you want to go back to his creepy basement?”

Abigail huffed out a reluctant laugh and he grinned at her. He rubbed his hands on her arms up and down, taking as much comfort as he gave with the touch. After a moment, her face resolved into a familiar determination. A spark of pride settled in Matthew’s chest at the sight of it. His Abigail, his daughter, so strong. 

“Then come with me. Let’s go together, start over in, in Italy or France. I speak fluent French, we could get lost in the countryside, never think of Baltimore again.”

Matthew bit his lip and dropped his head, heart aching at the thought of never seeing Will again, of giving up on his alpha, leaving him to the mercy of Hannibal Lecter. He knew, with a clarity he had never experienced before, that Hannibal would never let Will go, that the man would claw, grab and cage Will until one or both of them died. He couldn’t give up on his alpha, not when there might be another way. Will obviously held a mutual fascination for Hannibal, a calling to his inner alpha that made him hesitate to kill the threat to his pack but Matthew could be strong enough, had to be strong enough. 

“I can’t leave Will, Abs. I can prove myself as a worthy mate, an equal partner by doing this. Then I’ll know, really know, that Will wants me for me and not because our biology compels us to bond.”

He looked up again, imploring her silently to understand. She shook her head, eyes soft and understanding. 

“I didn’t realize you were worried about that, Matty. Will isn’t the kind of alpha to think less of someone for their gender. He can see the beauty, the hidden depths in a person and I know for a fact that he would see yours, if you ever let him.”

Matthew gave her a small smile, letting go of her arms to lean back, slumping to sit on the dining table behind him. Abigail followed, stepping close, her scent swelling to comfort him. He breathed deep, chasing the subtle nuances, trying to memorize the way it coated the back of his throat, the way it made him relax, the way her scent made him feel safe, surrounded by pack. Even for such a new feeling, the thought of losing her was devastating.

“I’m not worried about me, Matty, I’m worried about you. Hannibal is...I can’t even express how dangerous he is, how strong and capable. As much as he has screwed up with me and Will, even though he has hurt us, he regrets it, he wants to make things right. He still thinks of us as a family and no matter that he’s a null, he will fight just as viciously as an alpha protecting their pack. At least let me go with you. We can talk about this! Not everything has to be a fight. Hannibal might listen to me."

Matthew took a deep breath, still not convinced but willing to listen. 

“He told you that he regrets the way he treated you and Will? He said those words directly to you?”

Abigail hesitated and that was answer enough.

“Right, so no, then. I can't risk your life on a maybe, a what if. I need to do this alone, Abs. A fight like this is dangerous for witnesses. Too many instincts, one of us might lose control, hurt you. Hannibal may be strong, intelligent, willing to go dark but I can match him. He’ll repent or he’ll feel the bite of my knife in his throat.”

Abigail’s eyes filled with tears and she tipped her head forward on Matthew’s shoulders. He brought his arms around her, guilt eating at him. 

“You still love Hannibal, huh?”

Her head nodded against his shoulder and he sighed, rubbing her back gently. She sniffled and cleared her throat before speaking, voice coming out thick. 

“I do but I also love you and Will. I guess I’m stupid for hoping that there is a bright, shiny future where all of us are a family, are together and happy.”

“Tell me that you really think that can happen. Tell me, Abs, that if I approached Hannibal saying that I was Will’s perfect omega that he wouldn’t snap my neck immediately.”

She leaned back, tears falling freely and swallowed heavily. She looked gutted, unsure and so sad that Matthew’s eyes teared up in sympathy. 

“I can’t tell you that, Matty. It’s impossible to predict Hannibal so...I won’t stop you, I’ll go away and stay safe, stay far away from Hannibal’s influence. Obviously, there is no convincing you to not do this. I swear, the three of you always take the hardest road.”

Matthew tilted his head, confused but Abigail was done talking. She turned her head with a frown, looking frustrated with his stubborn attitude and Matthew followed her gaze. They both stared at the travel documents on the table, declaring her as Abby Brown, Beta, age 24. 

He had acquired them soon after she had come to live with him, knowing deep down that one day, their paths would diverge. He just hadn’t expected it to happen so soon. Even with the looming threat of separation, Matthew found a bone deep satisfaction that Abigail would bear his last name as she made a life for herself, far away from the consuming darkness that was their pack. Abigail pulled away from him and sat at the table, staring down at the documents with a dazed look on her face. He sat across from her, shuffling a bank statement to the top so that she could see. 

“I opened a bank account under your new name and put a little money in it.”

She picked up the paper, stared at it for a moment and then laughed, gazing at him with those soft eyes again. 

“You idiot. A little money? Sixty thousand dollars is more than a little.”

Matthew shrugged, grinning, unrepentant. He pointed to the next paper. 

“I booked you a flight for tonight. I won’t go after him until you are on it.”

She raised an impressed eyebrow. 

“I’m taking the cats and Harley? How am I going to find a place-”

He pointed to the last remaining paper. She laughed. 

“Of course, you took care of that, too. So I’m going to Florence with sixty thousand dollars and living in a discrete country home, outside the city.”

“You don’t have to stay there. It’s just a place to get started. In fact, you should move around a bit, when you can. At least at first.”

Abigail bit her lip as she studied the papers before glancing at him from under her lashes, looking vulnerable. 

“All of this...is this your life savings? And this house, how long have you owned it?”

Matthew smiled wryly, amused and a bit proud at how sharp Abigail was. 

“It’s...a retirement plan. When I was younger and much more beautiful, a lot of rich alpha idiots would try to court me because male omegas who can bear children are rare.   
Their assets disappeared along with their bodies.” 

“Then what the fuck are you doing in Baltimore working as an orderly.”

Matthew laughed, shrugging self consciously. 

“It’s a good city to disappear, to go under the radar and find alphas during my heat. It was never my plan to retire alone…”

He looked down at the rough grained wooden table, feeling the texture with his fingers. It was still hard to share the deepest parts of his heart with Abigail but it was a little easier each time. Abigail’s hand appeared in his vision and she placed it on his, stalling his fidgeting. 

“Okay, I’ll go there and I’ll wait. You will succeed, Matty and I’ll be in Florence waiting for my pack.”

***

Matthew was good at being invisible, even to a man like Hannibal Lecter. It was a shock to realize that Hannibal kept a strict schedule, barely deviating from day to day. It made stalking the man easy work and that fact sent alarm bells ringing through Matthew’s head. He knew how dangerous Hannibal was and obviously, the man was aware of that himself. He took no precautions against similar predators, almost daring them to come closer, to try their hand. 

The arrogance was infinitely attractive because Matthew knew Hannibal could back it up. Had anyone ever taken him by surprise, made Hannibal truly fight for his victory, for his dominance? Matthew burned to know, his inner omega urging him to inch closer, to appeal to such a calculating beast, entice, seduce, challenge-

Fuck. Matthew shook his head, cursing his weakness. It was true that on an instinctual level, Matthew was entranced by Hannibal, infinitely impressed with his competence and bloody skill, his charming facade and the beast that lurked behind it, carefully leashed but always ready to lunge. 

Unbidden, a different future spread out before Matthew, one that was impossible but seductive. What would it be like if Hannibal allowed him close, took Matthew into his confidence, cleaved the omega to his side? For a reckless moment, Matthew imagined what it would be like if Hannibal trusted him, if the man opened himself fully to another. How darkly beautiful was Hannibal’s insides? 

Would he place Matthew at his side during those theatrical dinner parties? They would exchange subtly amused glances as Hannibal served the main course, secure in their combined ability to fool the inferior masses. Matthew imagined their prey whole, screaming and bleeding, silenced by his knife or Hannibal’s raw strength. How would they pose their tableaus? Would Freddie Lounds give them an offensive couples name, one that would make Hannibal sneer and Matthew laugh in delight over their morning coffee? 

Would Will be there, would Abigail? Did Hannibal have the capacity for more than one obsession? The thought of Will acted like a bucket of ice cold water dumped over his head, clearing the fog of fanciful delusion from Matthew’s wandering mind. 

Will, his alpha, his future mate, sitting helpless in the BSHCI, sick and gaunt, lonely and so fucking sad. A man without a rudder, wasting away, his pack ties severed and it was Hannibal’s fault. 

Intellectually, Matthew knew that Hannibal needed to be brought down low, punished for what he had put Abigail and Will through, stopped before he could continue his razing of their minds. There was no logic in his machinations, only selfish narcissism. Hannibal destroyed simply because he could, he was superior to his prey in every way imaginable and found no guilt in the pain he inflicted. Was Hannibal even capable of love, of attachment and the need to see a pack thrive? 

And the Ripper, oh, the Ripper. To kill Hannibal was to kill the Ripper and the world would be a little less beautiful then. The mind of Hannibal was so complex, so surprising and fascinating that a man like Matthew could easily devote his whole life to understanding him. Hannibal was a man of constantly oscillating masks and motives, which were true, were any of them true? Did Will feel this conflicted, did Will know the true Hannibal? How far could his alpha reach into Hannibal’s mind and pull out the true darkness within?   
Matthew laughed bitterly and ran a hand over his face, rubbing at his tired eyes. Despite the exhaustion, the worry and angst, Matthew had never felt more alive. For too long his mind had languished, no stimulation, no challenge, just an ever rotating grey and white carousel, taking him through life. Will had been a burst of life, painting bright colors that contrasted the darkness, yes but also emphasized the grey in between dark and light. 

His world was changed forever in one glance, one inhale of sweet pine and smoke. With Will came Abigail, a daughter and Hannibal, a worthy rival. He would win against Hannibal, show Will that he would be a strong mate, a strong partner. And Hannibal, who should have been a comfort to Will, a friend, a mate? A father to Abigail? would suffer for his trespasses. Only a fool would throw away a pack like theirs. 

Hannibal arrived as expected like he did three times a week, right at nine o’clock. Matthew watched from a discrete distance as the man parked and entered the upscale fitness center. It was a ridiculously fancy place, one that screamed pretension and Hannibal fit right in. It was an exclusive gym and was guaranteed to be empty this late at night. The perfect time to strike and Matthew clutched the stolen key card in his hand as he walked to the door. Tonight, now, soon, one of them would die. 

***

The speedo was a pleasant sight and Matthew only felt a small flare of guilt as he watched Hannibal strip and carefully fold his suit before pulling the speedo on, working it over toned calves, tight thighs and a round ass. Hannibal was alluring enough for his mind, his skill but his body, his face? It made him a devastating predator. His unusual beauty made the flighty prey around him dare to come closer, made them ignore the red flags. 

Had he met Hannibal before all of this, before Will, Matthew would have found the man irresistible, would have dared and risked too much, even his own life, to touch his dark brilliance. 

The sound of Hannibal closing his locker startled Matthew out of his thoughts and he ducked behind a row of lockers, barely avoiding Hannibal as he passed, heading to the pool beyond the double doors. He waited a moment before creeping to the doors, daring a quick look through the high window. Hannibal had wasted no time in entering the water to start his laps and Matthew turned back to the room, the siren call of Hannibal’s locker beckoning him close. 

From his vantage point earlier, he had observed Hannibal’s code and it worked for Matthew, the light turning green, the door popping forward into his waiting hand. A rush of satisfaction ran through him but he suppressed the triumphant feeling, knowing that his work had only just begun. Hannibal would be in the pool for exactly sixty minutes, more than enough time to set the scene. 

The contents of the locker were boring, the lack of any kind of suppressants or scent spray adding to Matthew’s suspicion that Hannibal was a null, a man with no secondary gender. They were rare, more rare than a male omega bearer and Matthew couldn’t help but sympathize. Success must have been hard won for Hannibal, society being as skewed as it was towards a/b/o status. 

Matthew closed the locker again and took a deep breath before reaching under the back of his shirt, pulling the dart gun from his waistband. He set it on the bench in front of him and disrobed down to his own swimsuit. He tucked the gun into a towel and exited the locker room, swiping the master key card and imputing a lock down code on the pad. 

The janitor wasn’t due until dawn and the security guard started his rounds in two hours. The stars had aligned for Matthew and he felt it, down to his bones, that tonight would be a moment of triumph for him. 

***

His body was thrumming with excitement as he drew closer to the side of the pool, adrenaline pumping, sweat gathering. The beta spray was wearing off, the faint scent of petrichor and moss reaching Matthew’s nose but he didn’t stop. There was no time to turn around and apply more scent blocker. He had to move quickly, strike now while Hannibal was distracted. 

***

Matthew felt no sense of victory as he watched Hannibal sink beneath the water, his body floating gracefully down, down into the depths, limp and unconscious. He could let Hannibal drown, it would only take a few moments, his body could inhale chlorine rich water at any second, seeking relief and unknowingly killing itself. It would be easy, bloodless, quick and painless. But, no...Hannibal didn’t deserve that. 

The sedative would wear off in twenty to thirty five minutes, depending on Hannibal’s metabolism. It would afford him plenty of time to put Hannibal where he wanted him, vulnerable and helpless, a reflection of Will’s suffering, a testament to Hannibal’s betrayal. A fitting end to a literal Judas.

Matthew dove after Hannibal, pulling him up and delivering him to his fate. 

*** 

Hannibal looked much less intimidating, strung up as he was. He was slowly coming to, the bucket under his feet swaying, making him choke before he drunkenly righted his balance. Matthew bit his lip, feeling an unwanted flare of pity for the man; a great, impressive beast brought so low, so quickly. He rolled his eyes at himself and walked closer, kneeling down to hold the bucket still, waiting impatiently for Hannibal to gather the rest of his limited faculties. 

He also looked quite beautiful, vulnerable, at Matthew’s mercy. His inner omega purred, pleased. Even kneeling at Hannibal’s feet, Matthew held all the power. Hannibal’s eyes fluttered, long, blond lashes brushing delicately against his high cheekbones and Matthew’s breath caught at the sight. Such beauty in precarious repose. What color were his eyes, how deep was his gaze? 

Hannibal’s weight shifted again and the bucket under his feet shifted dangerously again. Matthew cursed and leaned closer, putting more effort into steadying him, his forehead coming to rest for a moment on Hannibal’s bare thigh. He looked up again, up and up to Hannibal’s face, pursing his lips, fighting anger. This was taking too damn long and he didn’t want Hannibal’s first sight of him to be on his knees. 

But his anger was short lived, disappearing like diaphanous smoke as Matthew slowly became aware of a faint, delicious scent. It was heady, earthy and the deeper Matthew inhaled, the more breaths he took, the scent became stronger, sinking into his sinuses and fogging his brain. It was distinctly the scent of an alpha and a potent one at that.

Without thought, Matthew pushed his face closer to Hannibal, instinctively seeking the source of the scent; Hannibal’s scent gland, high on his inner thigh. He felt no embarrassment at shoving his face into Hannibal’s groin, so drunk on the intoxicating scent of him. He nuzzled into the scent gland, releasing more of the scent and groaned, wanting to lick and suck on it before making his way towards more sensitive flesh. 

How would Hannibal receive such pleasure? Would he be rough, harsh hands in Matthew’s hair, growling, thrusting deep and choking him? Would he be firm but gentle, guiding Matthew, showing the omega how to please him? 

Damp earth, rotting wood, the unmistakable musk on an alpha in their prime underneath it. An unusual scent, one that most people would hate, would gag to be exposed to. Matthew leaned back to gaze at Hannibal, scratching at the scent glands on his own neck. They were swollen, probably red and they ached. He rubbed at them, trying to stimulate his own scent, suddenly desperate to smell how it mixed with Hannibal’s. The beta spray was almost worn off completely, just a little more stimulation-  
Hannibal’s eyes fluttered open and in an instant they went from hazy to sharply alert. Matthew could see his muscles as they tensed, testing the ropes holding him into Matthew’s trap. Matthew dropped his fingers from his scent gland, flushing in shame. What was he doing, lusting after another alpha?

This feeling, this heat, this rising, desperate arousal, the instinct to submit and please...it was the same with Will. No, no, impossible. There was no way in hell he had just scent bonded to Hannibal fucking Lecter. It had to be a trick, Hannibal was listed as a null on all of his paperwork. Was he using some kind of pheromone spray? But why would he? 

But...it made a hell of a lot of sense. Hannibal, no matter his sins, was pack. The tether was distant, nearly severed but Matthew could still sense it. He doubted the others did. Matthew, as pack omega, would be much more sensitive to their bonds, instinctively striving to keep them together, to fill the cracks, smooth over any dissent. If things were different, if the pack was strong, if Will could forgive Hannibal, if, if.

Matthew ruthlessly suppressed his omegan instincts, pushing them down, deep. There was no use in dreaming of what should have been, this was the reality now. Hannibal deserved to be punished for his callous arrogance and pride, for destroying his pack. Matthew couldn’t stop now and he couldn’t afford to be distracted. Hannibal was at his mercy, yes but Matthew wasn’t fool enough to think that Hannibal posed no threat. 

The bucket moved, responding to Hannibal’s tensed muscles and Matthew lurched forward to steady it, listening to Hannibal choke for a moment before he recovered. 

“Whoops! Careful there, big guy.” 

He looked up slowly, forcing a roguish grin onto his face. He expected Hannibal to look livid but the man’s face was blank, eyes blazing with a bright fire that made Matthew shiver. They promised vengeance, a pound of flesh extracted slow and painful. Matthew ignored it and the unease that followed. Seeing Hannibal from a distance, invading his den was one thing, having the full force of his contempt up close was terrifying. 

Hannibal’s eyes darted around, taking in the room and what he could see of the trap without moving his head. The rope on his throat wasn’t too tight for him to speak but it would take a full body effort to keep his balance. Matthew had hoped the distraction would make Hannibal’s mind slower, their conversation more revealing but meeting his calculating gaze, Matthew had a sinking feeling it would take more than this to put Hannibal at a disadvantage. The idea of his fortitude was attractive , the raw power and strength of Hannibal more than imposing. 

What an unstoppable pack they could have had, the four of them. 

“It’s impressive, right? And all for you, lucky boy.”

Matthew began slowly pacing in front of Hannibal, his gait loose and cocky. He could feel Hannibal’s gaze like a physical touch. 

“I’m surprised how easy it was to take you down, Hannibal. But I suppose pride does come before the fall…”

He spun to take in how his comment was received but Hannibal stayed silent, face bored but eyes alive and trained unerringly on Matthew. He couldn’t help but imagine that single minded focus in a more pleasurable setting. 

A moment passed and then another of Matthew waiting and Hannibal didn’t even blink. Matthew sighed, shoulders dropping in disappointment. Stubborn. He walked closer, waving his hand in front of Hannibal’s face, keeping far enough away that Hannibal couldn’t bite him. He knew the man was quick and vicious. 

“Hello? Anybody in there? No? Alright, I’ll answer the question I know your dying to ask.”

He loved this, needling and poking until something tender was found. He adopted his best impression of Hannibal’s accent, wanting to push and push. 

“Who are you, oh enchanting creature, that has bested me so easily? May I have the name of my very handsome captor?”

Admittedly, Matthew wasn’t very good at accents and he chuckled, delighted, to see Hannibal’s eye twitch, betraying his annoyance. A little shit, a brat, that’s what his dad used to call him. He laid a dramatic hand to his heart, gasping.

“So charming, good sir! My name is Matthew and I’m here to escort you to the ferryman...or whatever your preferred metaphor for the afterlife is, I don’t care.”

No response still. Fuck, what was it going to take? He crept closer, frowning. Usually his theatrics got a response. He dropped the act, pouting, disappointed. 

“You aren’t very fun, Hannibal. Where’s the yelling, the snarling and growling, the declarations of revenge?”

Hannibal lost his balance again, choking and struggling and a flare of anger crossed his features, sending a thrill through Matthew. There it was. Balance righted, breathing shallowly, Hannibal’s face was once again bland indifference. He spoke, voice hoarse, a little slurred. Still fighting the sedative? 

“You are quite dramatic, Matthew, and laboring under a glaring misapprehension.”

Hannibal paused as if waiting for Matthew to respond and after a moment Matthew sighed and waved his hand impatiently. Hannibal smirked and continued.

“You seem to have made the assumption that I have never been in a similar situation, caught and bound, at the mercy of a foe. Even the most inferior opponent can get lucky.”

Matthew grinned, impressed at the obvious effort Hannibal was expending to seem dignified. He didn’t think that Hannibal’s arrogance was feigned. The man truly believed he was leaving here alive. Hannibal narrowed his eyes, looking contemplative, brow furrowed. It smoothed out almost immediately and then he looked smug, a knowing spark lighting his eyes. 

“Ah, I see…”

It made Matthew wary and he lifted his lip, snarling lowly, crossing his arms, reluctantly intimidated. The shifting movement revealed his scent to his own nose and Matthew felt a creeping sense of alarm start to wash over him. It was stronger, his body overwhelming the spray at last to reveal his worst secret. 

If Hannibal was an alpha, if his faint scent was to be believed, that meant he had an alpha voice, a compulsion that would be almost impossible for Matthew to resist with his reluctant scent bond. Only the thought of Will, waiting in his stark cell, kept his resolve strong, kept him from untying Hannibal, declaring the man his alpha and falling to his knees in supplication. 

His whole life had been a fight against his true desires and that discipline would get him through this, would give him the strength to do what was needed, for the good of the pack. Hannibal was too dangerous to leave alive. Hannibal spoke again, his eyes burning with triumph. 

“I knew you looked familiar, Matthew. The criminal hospital, correct? I remember seeing you there, an employee.” 

Matthew frowned, still feeling off kilter. Hannibal’s mind was a steel trap, his memory sharp, his logic intimidating. He made leaps and bounds inside his brain the were awe inspiring. How much did he truly understand and what chaos could he inflict for his own dark amusement? A part of Matthew burned to know and another part wanted to slit his throat and be done with this farce. Why had he allowed Hannibal to awaken? How arrogant to think he was above such graceful manipulations. 

“You were there recently?”

Hannibal chuckled as best he could with the rope at his throat, his voice a low purr that made Matthew’s hands tremble, his omega preening inside his chest. 

“Of course, I had to see my darling Will.”

Hannibal affected a besotted expression and Matthew looked to the side, hurt to hear such praise, such devotion. He wanted that tone for himself, ardently. Had Hannibal gone there to mock Will, to see the results of his betrayal up close? Or had he truly missed Will, did he care for him? How had he missed the opportunity to watch these two alphas interact? 

He turned back to Hannibal, resolve restored, heartsick, confused and ready to end this. He was so tired, tired of feeling left behind, set aside, less than, unworthy...but with this, Will would see, he would finally see...Will wouldn’t deny Matthew ever again or keep secrets. He should kill Hannibal, end this dangerous banter before Hannibal spun a web so tight that Matthew lost the will to act. 

Hannibal’s eyes were narrowed again, assessing, bland facade in place, hiding his thoughts. He watched, unblinking as Matthew produced his favorite knife, spinning it, embracing the pleasure that suffused his body at holding it with intent. He grinned and stepped forward, not taking offense as Hannibal raised a mocking eyebrow, clearly amused, as if watching a child playact. Indulgent, condescending. 

“Is this Will’s design; sending a ravenous, uncontrollable dog to do his dirty work?”

Matthew scoffed and rolled his eyes, waving the knife to indicate the trap that held Hannibal tight. The fluorescent lights caught on the blade, flashing across Hannibal’s face. Hannibal watched the knife intently. 

“Uncontrollable? You call all this ‘ravenous’? If I were so vicious I would have come after you in the night, crept through your back garden, into your house through the back door.”

Matthew ran his thumb absently over the sharp edge of the knife, making a show of it, still coming closer to Hannibal. He wanted to see it sink into Hannibal’s soft flesh, see the exact color of red his blood was, how bright it would seem against the soft blue tile underneath their feet. Another alpha brought low. His open button up fell to one shoulder but he ignored it, mind dancing with visions of murder, his mouth taunting his prey. 

“I would have invaded your beautiful kitchen, ran my hands over the dining table as I silently passed, coming to the stairs. I wonder...would I have gone up them, continued my journey to your bedroom? Or would the sight of a tightly locked basement door have been too much of a temptation?”

He came to a stop, close enough to touch Hannibal, wanting to see every faint twitch, every flash of emotion in his beautiful dark eyes. Would his scent sour when angered or did he have mastery over that too? Total control over his inconvenient biology. Was that why his scent was so faint?

Hannibal clenched his fists around the ropes holding his wrists and Matthew could see his body subtly vibrating with tightly leashed emotion. He spoke, voice like steel, eyes lit by an even more unholy light. It made Matthew tremble more in response, amazed at his composure, his iron will. Such an alpha would make an unparalleled mate. Too bad they had to meet like this. 

“You took my Abigail...I don’t understand...Why would she go with you? Was she that desperate to leave me-”

Hannibal trailed off, nostrils flaring, brow furrowed. He took one deep breath, then another before his pupils dilated, blowing black, every bit of color lost. 

“Omega.”

Matthew’s gut clenched at the tone in Hannibal’s voice, low and dark, tongue wrapping around each syllable like an intimate caress. Matthew was frozen, eyes wide, unable to move, caught by Hannibal’s gaze. He knew, he knew. Matthew’s silence seemed answer enough and Hannibal continued, smirking. 

“That explains why Abigail went with you and why you have insinuated yourself between Will and I. Does he know that you are his omega?”

Hannibal tilted his head, eyes calculating, seeing everything. Matthew glanced away, swallowing nervously. This was fast getting out of hand. This close he could smell Hannibal again, a creeping invisible miasma that reached and engulfed Matthew’s senses. His body was beginning to respond through the suppressants, quickening towards obvious arousal. 

He would begin to slick soon and what would Hannibal do with that information? How would he use Matthew’s body against him? Would he guess correctly that Will wasn’t his only alpha, that Matthew’s omega wanted them both? Would he care, was he capable of the love that was expected, the fidelity? Did Hannibal have the capacity for more than one obsession? 

Hannibal hummed, feigning a thoughtful, sympathetic air. 

“No, of course not. He would push you away, omega or not. Rest assured that even telling him would not have changed your fate.”

Matthew lowered his head, struck by Hannibal’s words, ones that he had thought to himself more than once. Will would never want him. But Hannibal continued, inadvertently soothing his omega.

“Will finds it painful to love, desires free will above anything else, fights his own instincts viciously. He would distrust his biology, reject you on principal no matter if you are   
perfect for him. You are, are you not, little one...perfect?”

That purr was back in Hannibal’s voice and Matthew’s breath caught. The direct praise, no matter the intent behind the words, raised the arousal in his blood from a simmer to a low boil. He bit his lip, meeting Hannibal’s eyes. Hannibal was close to cooing now and it was a potent feeling, one that could become addicting.

“Smart, cunning, strong and loyal. Will is a fool to reject you.”

It could be an act but Hannibal looked truly delighted and Matthew was charmed. He smiled shyly, falling back on his sass to hide his discomfort.

“You like knowing something Will doesn’t, don’t you, alpha?”

Matthew startled when Hannibal laughed at that, the alpha looking surprised and amused. The motion moved the bucket, turning the laugh into a concerning gurgling sound. Matthew raised his hands to help but Hannibal recovered quickly, tensing his muscles and standing tall. 

The moment broken, Matthew backed up, cursing himself for being so easily drawn into Hannibal’s orbit, his scent, his eyes. The man called to Matthew but he couldn’t be trusted. Think of Will, think of Will. 

Hannibal seemed pleased, face alight with a soft, vulnerable pleasure. Matthew’s heart ached at the sight, not daring to think it genuine but fervently wishing it were. 

“Not many can scent me, little one. Most think me to be a null.”

Matthew came closer, taking a deep breath. The smell of damp soil and rotting wood made his eyes flutter and he couldn’t help but imagine what it smelled like next to Will’s pine and smoke. To be surrounded by this, always...He shook his head, shuddering under the laser like focus of Hannibal’s black eyes, voice soft as he spoke. 

“Your smell...it’s powerful.”

At that, Hannibal’s face turned smug, lips quirking. 

“You like my scent, Matthew? Does it call to you? I can smell you as well, little one. Intoxicating, divine. I can also read your heart as easily as I could eat it.”

Matthew huffed out a surprised laugh. 

“Eat a lot of hearts, do you?”

Hannibal’s head tilted again and Matthew found each increasing incident of the motion endearing. He could almost hear the whirring of Hannibal’s thoughts but he seemed to deem that conversation unimportant, continuing, 

“What you want more than anything is to submit, to be loved and taken care of.”

“Shut up, Hannibal. You don’t know me.”

“I can see it so easily, little one, your omega, crying out-”

The knife flashed again as Matthew closed the small distance between them, setting the sharpened edge to Hannibal’s carotid. Hannibal sucked in a breath, causing the bucket to move and the knife sliced a shallow cut into the alpha’s flesh. They were nose to nose, breath mingling and Hannibal growled, one lip raising in a snarl to reveal his wicked looking canine. Matthew pushed back the instinct to bear his throat to the alpha, whine and beg for forgiveness. 

He couldn’t. Despite Hannibal’s pretty words, he would sooner kill Matthew than mate him. He bared his own teeth in the facsimile of a smile as the smell of blood bloomed up between them. It was running down the blade, over the handle and soaking his fingers. He wanted to reach up and taste. Hannibal growled again at the smell and leaned into the knife, chasing the bite of the blade, eyes boring into Matthew’s. He looked feral, insane, eyes glowing the deepest alpha red Matthew had ever witnessed. 

He felt it then, the leak of slick, the smell of his arousal mixing with Hannibal’s blood created an overwhelming cocktail. He saw the instant that Hannibal smelled him, watched as the alpha’s eyes lit with triumph, his expression turning possessive, covetous. 

Matthew’s blood felt strange, as if replaced by carbonated water, fizzing under his skin and raising the hair on his arms and neck. Hannibal inhaled deeply and growled, a deep bass that reverberated through Matthew, leaving him feeling weak. The distance between them was so small, their lips so close. 

“So fierce, little one. So wild. Never have I met an omega like you.” 

Before Matthew could give in to the madness, lean close and kiss this infuriating, seductive man, the sound of the electronic doors to the locker room being swiped open made him turn, knife still raised. He watched in horror as the room filled with people in suits, every gun trained on him. There was indiscriminate shouting, barked orders that his shocked mind couldn’t process and finally a tearing pain in his chest. Hannibal shouted,

“No! Jack, stop!”

But it was too late. Matthew gasped, reeling backwards, falling against Hannibal before collapsing to the floor on hands and knees, groaning, smelling his own blood as it soaked his shirt. Dully, he watched the bucket tumble across the blue tile, settling in the far corner and heard the sound of choking above him. 

Jack Crawford rushed forward to push Matthew aside. His arms slipped out from under him and he felt the cold press of the tile against his chest, pain blooming at the pressure against his fresh wound. His vision was fading, darkness creeping in from the edges and it was getting harder to breath. Slowly, with effort, Matthew turned over, a sharp relief filling him to see Jack holding Hannibal up, bracing the man with his considerable strength. 

Hannibal was breathing roughly, coughing and gasping, face red but his eyes never left Matthew’s as the darkness took him. Matthew wanted to cry, to scream and thrash. He was dying, he had failed his pack. Hannibal’s voice followed him into the depths, faint but calming, words whispered like a prayer, 

“Matthew, Matthew…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was fun to write!


	8. Matthew Faces an Uncertain Future

The smell cut through the darkness first, making the nerves of Matthew’s brain fire rapidly; disinfectant, industrial laundry detergent and more distantly, blood. The blood pulled at his mind more firmly, dragging him roughly through the floating stasis that was his unconscious and into harsh reality.

As he surfaced, images came to him; Will, his mouth quirked up at the edges, eyes softened at something Matthew said, something he did.   
Abigail, eyes bright, her lips quirked in the same way, so much like Will, lifting the pack animals into her nest, snuggling close to Matthew, her scent full of contentment, dragging him into sleep. 

And then, Hannibal, disheveled and wet, choking and bleeding, caught in his trap, his dark, lovely scent calling to Matthew even as the omega tried to resist the pull, his inner beast crying out for-_mate, mate, mate_. 

The pain, the blood, Hannibal’s hoarse voice calling his name, urgent and desperate. 

The noise came next, the beeping and susurrating of machines; a hospital. As his mind left behind the memories, fighting to emerge from the past, Matthew lay still, keeping his breathing even and scented the air carefully. 

To his left, an alpha, a scent he didn’t recognize but one full of authority, someone used to being obeyed. Law enforcement? Here to clap him in irons as soon as he woke? Their scent was calm, the sound of pages being shuffled made Matthew’s mounting panic abate. Nothing too urgent there. 

He turned his senses inward, focusing on his body. He was cold and pleasantly numb, body heavy and exhausted. Through the pain meds, his body ached, a distant feeling that was sure to be unbearable soon. How long had he been in that comforting darkness? Why had he awoken? And his pack…

The alpha next to him leaned forward, their shadow falling over Matthew, obscuring the light beyond his closed eyelids. He gave a sigh, expelling his tired exasperation through his nostrils and fluttered his eyes open. The figure was large with broad shoulders, expression blurry. Matthew blinked a few times, moaning in pain, even that much movement was a strain. 

The alpha hummed, leaning back, crossing his legs, leaning languidly to the side, one arm draped over the back. Matthew followed the movement, ignoring his stiff neck, keeping his eyes on the predator, the threat in the room; Agent Jack Crawford. 

His heart monitor spiked, making a flash of disgusted annoyance roll through him. There was no good way to play at casual indifference, not with the machines revealing his lies. Crawford chuckled, a grating, condescending sound that had Matthew grinding his teeth. He turned his head back to stare blankly at the ceiling. 

“You shot me, you bastard. Get out of my room.”

Matthew’s voice was weak and he winced, swallowing rapidly as his throat burned after the effort of speaking. Crawford chuckled again, this one more genuine and leaned forward a second time, bringing a plastic cup of cool water with a straw to Matthew’s lips. He wanted to refuse, wanted to growl and lash out but he accepted the gesture, drinking greedily. 

The water brought relief and clarity. His mind cleared, his vision sharpened and...he could smell himself, the sour scent of omega in distress. The panic descended again, his scent turning darker, lips curling back to reveal sharp canines and he could feel his eyes flash golden. Crawford didn’t touch him but he also didn’t call for help, he merely leaned back in his chair, scent calm and a bit pleased, the sadist and waited.

They knew, they fucking knew that he was an omega, that he was posing as a beta. Putting aside his heat rage killings and his abduction, torture and attempted murder of Hannibal, a highly respected, upper class alpha, impersonating a beta was enough to get him thrown in an omega home. Locked away behind thick cement walls, his wings clipped, his heats made miserable. Had they connected him to all the dead and missing alphas? Had he made a mistake, left his scent on them? Why the hell was Crawford here and not-

“I’m not talking to you, Crawford. I want my fucking lawyer.”

He fought back the panic and turned to regard Crawford again, took in the alpha’s calculating eyes, his relaxed posture. The alpha gave him a tight smile and spread his hands, shrugging his broad shoulders. 

“To my disgust, I’m not here to arrest you. Dr. Lecter isn’t pressing charges.” 

Matthew frowned, mind whirling. 

“The fuck?”

Crawford nodded sagely, crossing one leg over the other. He looked at ease but his eyes betrayed him, bright with curiosity, obviously bitter about being kept in the dark. 

“My thoughts exactly. You know, he didn’t want to leave your side, even threatening one of the EMT’s to let him ride in the ambulance. I denied him, kept him for questioning after he refused treatment. He looked ready to run after you on foot.”

Matthew stayed silent, keeping his face blank. He had no idea how to respond. Why would Hannibal...unless, he felt it too, the...bond, the pull. No, no, he couldn’t think about that. If Hannibal wanted Matthew, it was only so that the alpha could slowly kill him. He couldn’t hope, not again. Will would surely be disgusted with him as well. He had failed, he was a horrible hunter, a bad omega, a bad parent, an undesirable mate. 

Where were his alphas, his child? Why was he here alone, cold and in pain? He let out a high, panicked, continuous whine as the darkness began to crawl closer. His breath was coming faster, pulling on his wound, a tearing, stabbing sensation that added to his spiral, pushing his rational mind further away. His omega was screaming under his breast, clawing at his mind, his instincts rising, overwhelming and uncontrollable. There was no Matthew, only an abandoned omega, left for dead in enemy territory. 

His failure was unforgivable, his pack wasn’t coming for him, he was alone again, alone forever, unworthy, unlovable. He was screaming, the sound tearing its way out of his throat, shredding his lungs. There were hands on him, unfamiliar and unwelcome and he thrashed, growling and straining. He couldn’t stop, he didn’t want to stop. Hannibal should have killed him. 

*** 

Crawford was gone when Matthew surfaced again but there was another presence in the room, an unfamiliar beta. He cursed in his head. Couldn’t he get a few seconds alone, time to process his utter failure, his aborted future? Now that he had been careless, had been outed as an omega, one with no alpha, no pack, there would be no avoiding an omega facility. 

They would shove him back in there, shove pills down his throat, wash away everything that made him a person. He would exist only as a number in the eyes of the state, a statistic, a body to be tucked away, finally controlled, fucking forgotten. And when his heat came, well, there would be no hiding his rage, his need to kill. He could only hope that the stress of being wounded and whatever judicial farce they put him through would delay his heat. This wasn’t the end. He had escaped a facility before, more than once and taken an alpha asshole or two with him, bloody and dismembered. 

He felt another person enter the room, the barest smell of alpha leaking out from under suppressants. The alpha came closer to Matthew to set gentle, cold hands on him, making him flinch and the hands disappeared, the people in the room coming to an unnatural stillness. He sighed and opened his eyes, groaning at the bright lights above him.   
The alpha muttered something unintelligible and stepped away. The lights dimmed and Matthew sighed, beyond pleased at the change and blinked his eyes rapidly. His mind was becoming more aware, responding to the increased stimulus and fuck, he hurt. He twitched, trying to test his movement, checking for restraints, none, and groaned again, a wounded sound. 

He ached, ached, ached. What had happened? It hadn’t felt like this when Crawford was here. The alpha was back at his side, leaning over him and smiling softly, his scent distant and calming. He tried to move again but the alpha shushed him, holding him still. 

“Just relax, Mr Brown. My name is Jacob, I’m the nurse taking care of you today. Do you understand me?”

Matthew opened his mouth to respond, wanting to break the strange alpha’s fingers for touching him but his body didn’t respond. He was weak, sore, vulnerable. His omega was snarling in discontent. He nodded, sneering when the nurse smiled at him. 

“Good, that’s a good omega.”

Matthew did snarl then, showing teeth and tensing his body only to deflate with a pathetic whine at the pain the action brought. 

“It’s okay, Mr. Brown, you’re okay. You’ve been through a lot these past few weeks, just take it easy.”

The machine next to his bed gave a shrill whine as his heart beat faster and he reached out, lightning quick to grab the alpha’s hand, his nails drawing blood in the tender flesh as he held on, not letting the nurse pull away. His nostrils flared at the scent and he felt his eyes flash golden. His voice as he forced out words was weak, cracking with obvious disuse and abuse. Had he been screaming for long? He remembered screaming. 

“Weeks? How long? What-”

He broke off with a dry, hacking, bone shaking, full body cough. He let go of the nurse to curl upon himself as much as he could, his sore body useless. The beta on the other side of the bed leaned forward but Matthew ignored them, eyes boring with unbroken focus into the nurse. The alpha, Jacob?, gave a put upon sigh and moved to record his vitals, tsking at Matthew as if he were a misbehaving child. The projected infantilism grated. 

“Just take it easy, omega. You’re at the end of the most brutal bond withdrawal your doctor has ever seen. Two alpha bonds broken at the same time! It’s amazing you lived through it.”

Matthew went still, the nurse’s words echoing loudly in his confused mind. He silently stared as the alpha continued, seeming unaware of Matthew’s distress. 

“We kept you sedated through the worst of it, lucky you. A bond break like this on your own, lasting as long as it did, three whole weeks, outside of the hospital would have been…”

He trailed off, shaking his head and gave Matthew a patronizing smile, patting his closest hand, sitting limp on the sheets. The nurse was still talking but Matthew ignored him, turning his mind inward, reaching for his pack bonds. He was met with an aching emptiness. He drew in a sharp breath and held it, clenching his hands into tight fists. No, no, please, not Abigail. Not his child, please. 

He reached deeper, past what he imagined to be frayed lines of rope, severed from Will and Hannibal, his alphas, never to be his alphas and mentally grasped, desperate. There, a pulsing red warmth, he pulled on it, watched it tremble and shake. He could feel her there, at the other end, so far away but still his, his Abigail. Was she in Italy? Was she safe? He couldn’t detect any distress in their bond but she didn’t seem happy either. It was possible that with extended distance, physical and emotional, that their pack bond would sever. But for now, it was a comfort to feel her, to know that she was still his pack. 

Will and Hannibal...Three fucking weeks. That was a long time, more than enough time for one of the alphas to contact him, through a proxy or a damn letter. They would have felt his distress at the bond breaking, even through an incomplete scent bond. Abigail would have felt it and three weeks of writhing and extreme pain that came with bond withdrawal would have echoed through her bond and into theirs. They weren’t stupid by any means, they would have known what it meant. 

Crawford would have visited Will by now, informed him of what happened between Hannibal and Matthew, told his-no, not his, alpha that Matthew was an omega. An omega with a pathetic one sided scent bond to Will. Had he wanted to reach out to Matthew but been unable to? Had Crawford kept Hannibal away as well? Or...had they not cared, had they rejoiced that Matthew was gone now, a nuisance batted away as easily as a fly?

A mating bond was much more sensitive than a parental pack bond. Without a mating bite to seal the bond, to make it permanent, constant reassurance, affection, touch or emotional support was needed. Neglect of an omega led to bond withdrawal. Had Will and Hannibal allowed it to happen? 

Three weeks of anguish, even if he was sedated for it, it would have hurt the whole pack, not just Matthew. To ignore him, to allow it to happen...fuck, they didn’t want him. And why would they? Who was Matthew, an interloper, an unwanted annoyance, coming between the fucked up confusing rivalry or mating dance, foreplay, whatever that Will and Hannibal were doing. Why did he think for a second that he was worthy of an alpha like Will; strong, intelligent, gentle, fierce or Hannibal; competent, charming, vicious, possessive. 

He burned for Abigail, wanted to breath in her calming scent, hold his child in his arms. She would know what to say, she would tell him what was real, what to do now.   
The other presence in the room, the beta, silent until now cleared their throat. 

"Thank you very much, Jacob, for taking such exemplary care of my client but Mr Brown and I have urgent matters to discuss."

The nurse left and Matthew resurfaced from his mind, turning to take the beta in; handsome, nice suit, arrogant face. 

“You, I know you. You were Will’s lawyer. Did he-?”

The man gave Matthew such a look of pity that his throat closed, words dying before he could form them. He swallowed heavily and fought back the utter despair that wanted to over take him. The lawyer gave Matthew a tight smile and brought up his briefcase, removing and spreading out a stack of papers on the side of the bed followed by a pen. 

“Ah, no, Mr. Brown, my name is Leonard Brauer. I was hired by Dr Frederick Chilton to be your legal representation.”

Matthew frowned and shook his head, feeling cast adrift. Chilton had hired him but-

“Jack Crawford was here...before. He said that Han-Dr Lecter wasn’t pressing charges.”

Brauer hummed and clicked the pen a few times, seeming to think over his response before speaking. 

“That is true but Agent Crawford fought very hard to get the District Attorney to move forward and charge you with…” He blew out a breath, tapping the pen against one palm, “a myriad of crimes.”

Matthew pursed his lips, wishing Crawford were in his room again so he could strangle the man. At Matthew’s silence, Brauer continued.

“Luckily, Dr Chiton had already procured my impressive services and I convinced the DA that it was a losing battle to take you to court. No judge or jury in Maryland would allow an omega to be convicted of crimes relating to a mating dispute.”

Brauer gaze sharpened. 

“It helped that your rival supported that view, petitioning that you be remanded to what amounts as parol; state sanctioned omega independence.” 

Matthew drew in a sharp breath, mind reeling in shock. 

“Hannibal-but, I tried to kill him.”

Brauer smirked, lips roguishly crooked, eyes shining in amusement. 

“And failed, don’t forget that part. If anything, it seems that you impressed him, an omega challenging an alpha, completely unheard of.”

“To be fair, I thought Dr Lecter was a null when I went after him. Either way, I suppose I considered him a threat to my alpha and my pack.” 

“And your status as the pack alpha’s mate?”

“Yes.”

Brauer nodded, looking pleased. 

“Good, perfect. You’re saying all the right things. I was afraid I’d have to coach through what to say to law enforcement and pushy journalists. Boring.”

Matthew narrowed his eyes at the man. 

“Are you saying you don’t believe me?”

Brauer chuckled and flipped the pen over his knuckles a few times, giving Matthew a grin. 

“Listen, it doesn’t matter what I believe, my job is to have your best interests at heart.”

Matthew rolled his eyes, not fooled for a second. 

“How is that possible when your retainer is being paid by Chilton? You’re representing his interests more than mine, right? So just get on with it. What is the doctor planning, helping me out like this. It sure as hell isn’t out of the goodness of his cold, conniving heart.”

Brauer tipped his head to the side, eyes calculating. 

“Looks and brains, impressive. Shit taste in alphas but nobody’s perfect.”

Matthew growled low, beyond frustrated and Brauer held out his hands, still grinning. 

“Okay, okay. I get it, you’ve been through a lot. Let’s get this over with so you can rest.”

He shuffled the papers on the bed and Matthew resisted the urge to sweep them to the floor in fit of pique. Brauer cleared his throat. 

“First, the DA denied Dr Lecter’s and my request to declare you an independent omega. The state would have been responsible for you and you are deemed too dangerous, considering your recent actions.”

He paused to take in Matthew’s reaction and Matthew took a deep breath, keeping his face blank. They had no fucking idea how dangerous he could be. It would have been annoying to belong to the state with constant check ins by numerous agencies but being a state sponsored omega would have come with a good amount of freedom. His only options now were a facility or…

“Second, the bond withdrawal has left you unclaimed which is illegal in Baltimore. Considering that neither Dr Lecter or Mr Graham have stepped forward to renew their claim on you, well, that leaves one other option instead of an omega facility.”

Matthew felt numb, he knew where this was headed. Fucking Chilton, what was he planning? He turned his head to stare glumly at the ceiling, a wave of hopelessness crashing over him. Hadn’t he sworn to himself that never again would anyone make him feel like this? Every miscalculated step over the last two months spread out before him and he followed every stupid decision back to his present situation. 

He should have never trusted that Will would want him, would protect him and cherish him. Hannibal had done more for him than Will ever had, with far less motivation. What if he had gone to Hannibal instead of attacking him? Would things have been different? Would they have worked together to mend the rift between the two alphas, reunited their pack and what, driven off into the sunset? Yeah, right. 

Matthew was alone, again, always. He had to accept what he couldn’t change and work to take back his life. Chilton would be easier to manipulate than a facility, he would bleed easier, too. There was nothing left in Baltimore for him. He could leave, start over again, maybe...maybe just retire, stop struggling, stop hoping for a mate, someone to soothe him, someone to force him to kneel, to relish the fight for his submission. There was no one like Will, like Hannibal. His chance had come and gone, never to repeat. 

Brauer waited in silence, unperturbed by the awkward air between them. Finally, he tapped his finger on his thigh and sighed. 

“As you may have guessed, Dr Chilton has offered to sponsor you as a temporary alpha.”

Matthew blinked, frowning as he turned his head back to Bauer. 

“Temporary? Why wouldn’t he force me to mate with him?”

Bauer tilted his head, considering.

“Altruism?”

Matthew sneered and Brauer grinned. 

“Maybe he will offer his bite, eventually. Maybe he wants to court you but his plans were forced unnaturally forward. But...I have been able to spend enough time with Dr Chilton to realize the type of man he is. I find it much more likely that he has a plan for you, one that he would prefer you were in a position that forced you to accept.” 

Matthew narrowed his eyes at Brauer, fighting off the exhaustion pulling at him. 

“That sounds like a warning.”

Brauer hummed again. 

“I’m sure I don’t have to tell you to be cautious about all of this but accepting Chilton is the best outcome for you, Mr Brown. Dr Chilton is being more than generous, it’s shocking. Your house and car will now be under Chilton’s name but he’s letting you continue to use them as you see fit. You get to keep your job at the BSHCI, with some new responsibilities to “be specified at a later date,” sounds ominous. I suggest you bring me with you for those negotiations. Oh, and of course, Dr Chilton is to be listed as your alpha on any and all paperwork, personal and professional.”

Struck mute, Matthew could only stare in shock as Brauer laid all the pertinent paperwork in his lap. He handled each form with care, as if grabbing them too firmly would set them on fire, make them disappear. Chilton must be desperate to offer all this to Matthew. It made him burn with an insatiable curiosity to know why. That numbness carried him through signing his name what felt like a hundred times and he ignored the heavy weight that settled in his stomach. 

When Brauer finally left and his doctor had come and gone, Matthew sat in silence, tracing Chilton’s name next to his on his state registry. He felt hollowed out, numb and heartsick. According to his doctor, the feeling of emptiness would fade over time, especially if a bond was formed with his “new alpha”. It made him nauseous to even contemplate, tying himself more permanently to Chilton, that pompous idiot. The alpha had his good qualities but compared to Will and Hannibal…

He would tear Chilton to pieces if the alpha wanted his heat. Matthew was tempted to just let it happen. According to the state prosecutor and public opinion, he couldn’t be blamed for what happened under the influence of instincts. Perhaps, if he didn’t like what Chilton had in mind, he would encourage the alpha to court him, to pursue his heat. 

But a kill so public would put him right back in the situation he found himself in now, with even less prospects. It was smarter to bide his time, play nice with Chilton and make iron clad plans to disappear. There were a few european countries that protected omegas fleeing an abusive bond and would refuse to extradite to the US, Italy being one. He had planned for this years ago, he needed to take a breath and assess, play his hand carefully. There were worse alphas than Chilton, surely. 

Matthew gave a frustrated sigh and tossed the papers away, watching dispassionately as they fluttered to the floor. As tired as he was, he knew he would be unable to sleep. Too many thoughts and possibilities were running through his mind and the flat, hard hospital bed under him was a far cry from his nest at home. Home. Had Abigail made it out of the country safe? Had she taken the cats and Harley with her? What was waiting for him at home, more emptiness? 

Matthew struggled to sit up, moving carefully with the bed into an upright position. His whole body felt like one big bruise, his chest a sharper ache than the rest. Curious, he carefully pulled back his thin white tee shirt and looked down at his chest. There was a bandage there, over the bullet wound and he slowly pulled it back, admiring how well it was healing. It would scar though, a constant, glaring reminder of his failure. He prodded at it before laughing hoarsely, caressing the stitches with gentle fingers. 

Shot through the fucking heart for Hannibal Lecter. How poetic.

Matthew shook off his bitter thoughts and reached for the tv remote, clicking the small flat screen on. He flipped through the channels, not caring, not paying attention, just wanting some kind of distraction from his whirling thoughts. He paused on a twenty four hour news station, clutching the remote so hard that the plastic casing began to crack and stared dumbly at the familiar face of Hannibal Lecter superimposed next to the anchor. 

The woman was speaking, face and tone somber but Matthew couldn’t hear her over the rush of his own pulse, pounding and crashing in his ears, machines beeping louder next to him as his blood pressure rose sharply. The picture disappeared to show Hannibal, handcuffed and mussed being placed by Jack Crawford into the back of a police cruiser.   
The headline scrolled below the recorded scene, glaring and provocative;

‘**Real Ripper caught? Graham an innocent man?**’


	9. Matthew Has to Make Nice With Chilton

By the time Matthew was released from the hospital, Will was a free man and Hannibal had taken his place. Matthew idly amused himself by wondering if Chilton had relegated Hannibal to the exact same cell. Chilton’s sense of humor and flare for the dramatic implied that he would, even if Matthew and his new alpha were the only ones in on the joke. 

Matthew was only slightly surprised when he stepped out of the automatic hospital doors to see a sleek, black expensive looking car waiting for him. At the sight of him the driver, looking bored, opened the back door and motioned Matthew forward. Matthew huffed out a laugh and rolled his eyes. Talk about dramatic. 

The sight of Chilton, looking well put together, greeting Matthew with a bland, pleasant smile, diamond rings glinting in the sunlight, made Matthew want to reach over and fuck him up a little. He wanted to run a rough hand through his perfectly coiffed hair, rip a few buttons from his pressed shirt. A man who smelled like brackish water and freshly mown grass shouldn’t go around wearing expensive suits, would, perhaps, be more suited to jeans and soft tee shirts. 

What a fucking waste to cover that fresh, clean scent with pungent, floral cologne and musky aftershave. After a moment of silence, with Matthew petulantly ignoring his alpha and looking at the passing scenery, Chilton cleared his throat, his scent reflecting his unease. Matthew smirked at his rippling reflection, pleased that Chilton had some intelligence. Enough, at least, to know that Matthew was dangerous, that provoking him needlessly would end bloody. Maybe there was some hope for this fucked up situation.  
In the reflection, Matthew watched Chilton open his mouth to speak but Matthew cut him off. 

“This is really unnecessary, Chilton. I’m more than capable of finding my way home...supposing that I still have a home?”

It only occurred to Matthew as he spoke that despite going the same way to his house, Chilton could very well be taking him to the alpha’s residence. For a brief moment, Matthew fantasized about grabbing Chilton’s cane and beating him with it but he stayed unnaturally still, sharp eyes assessing every movement Chilton made behind him. Chilton seemed unbothered and even as his scent soured, his bland smile never faltered. Matthew was reluctantly swayed; the alpha had guts.

“I can’t come pick up _my_ omega from the hospital?”

The stressed possessive ‘my’ made Matthew grit his teeth and he bared them at Chilton’s reflection, his small, sharp canines on full display. Chilton’s eyes widened but he showed no other obvious signs of distress, swallowing thickly, his smile a bit tighter around the edges of his lips. It pleased the vicious monster that lived in Matthew’s breast, seeing such an influential alpha scared of him. 

_You should be scared. Don’t ever underestimate me, alpha._

“You didn’t offer a mating bite, Fred. I may belong to you in the eyes of the law but to my omega, you are nothing. Just another grasping alpha, easily defeated.”

Chilton’s reflection flinched at the nickname before he tilted his head to the side, eyes shining, scent sharper, a bit acrid. 

“If I thought I could in any way please you, Matthew, I would press my suit but alas…”

He trailed off, giving Matthew another bland smile. It made Matthew want to rush the alpha, pin him to the back of the seat with an elbow at his neck, press until Chilton was choking and silently begging. Anything to see some genuine emotion. Matthew was sick of alpha’s hiding their true thoughts, their true intentions from him. He could guess at why Chilton was doing this, taking him on but after everything with Will and Hannibal, Matthew just wanted the games to end. He was so fucking tired. 

With a sigh, Matthew leaned back to recline on the warm, leather seat, his head lolling back. It exposed his throat to Chilton’s eyes and the alpha’s breath caught, knuckles going white as he clutched the head of his cane. Matthew smirked, looking at Chilton from under his eyelashes. That was certainly a real reaction. 

Even though he didn’t want Chilton, the dark look in the alpha’s eyes was pleasing to his omega. He preened, showing more of his throat and chuckling when Chilton’s scent went deeper, the salty water scent becoming crisp. Matthew took a deep breath, nose flaring and Chilton looked downright covetous. 

Matthew bit his lip. He should really cut the guy some slack. The alpha had already admitted to wanting Matthew even though he was nowhere near as refined and sociable as an omega should be for an affluent alpha like this one. Maybe Chilton liked a little danger...or maybe he was just a fool. 

“‘Press your suit’...”, Matthew snorted, “I’ve never met a self aware narcissist before. How refreshing.” 

Chilton’s lips pursed and he lifted his head, nose in the air. It took most of Matthew’s self restraint not to smack him in the face, wipe that arrogant look off his face. Despite what Chilton believed, the alpha was a reckless idiot, his actions led him down a path of all danger and no reward. Matthew would find a way to turn Chilton’s latest venture on the alpha, make sure he would regret taking Matthew in hand. 

“I do have some finer qualities, Matthew, perhaps in our time together you will come to appreciate them.”

Matthew came out of his submissive stance with a strangled laugh, leaning closer to Chilton to give the alpha a shark like grin. His voice was low, mocking. 

“Don’t hold your breath, doc.”

Chilton instinctively leaned away from Matthew with a frown, the muscles under his fancy jacket tensing. Matthew licked his lips, enjoying his unease. It was dangerous to corner an alpha but Matthew was long past caring. He would welcome a fight, any fight, any fucking excuse to leave finger shaped bruises around Chilton’s vulnerable throat, to see his blood spill, thick and red, across the butter soft seats of his pretentious car. 

Chilton broke eye contact first, ceding the tense standoff with a firm nod. Matthew nodded back, smirk in place as he sighed again and slumped back against the seat. He was so damn tired, sore physically and heartsick. Would he ever feel like himself again, was he doomed to carry the spectre of Will and Hannibal within him, right next to his heart for the rest of his life? A fraction of his life spent bonded to two asshole alphas and Matthew was cursed forever to feel the phantom threads in his soul, an ache that would never fade. 

And Abigail, would he ever see her again or would she be kept from him as well? 

Chilton cleared his throat awkwardly, bringing Matthew back to the present. 

“I was planning on discussing your future position at the hospital but you’re looking a little peaked. Let’s get you home, rest and I’ll send a car for you tomorrow.”

It wasn’t a question but not quite a command and Matthew nodded, too exhausted to continue riling the alpha up. Hadn’t he meant to play nice? For now…

The smooth road under the car tires turned to gravel and Matthew sat up, looking out the window to see his house. It looked as if in a stasis, abandoned and waiting to be awoken. There would be no animals to greet him when he opened the door, no Abigail to smile at him and welcome him home. Matthew blinked back tears and nodded to Chilton, his mind already turning to his empty nest. After so long away it wouldn’t smell like him anymore, wouldn’t smell like Abigail either.  
Matthew reached for the door handle but paused, dropping his hand and turning back to Chilton. 

“I think I can guess what it is you want. I saw the news about Lecter being at the BSHCI. A real fat, juicy pomegranate, waiting to be split open and examined.”

Chilton smiled enigmatically. 

“An interesting metaphor...an interesting choice of fruit. Do you consider Lecter the Hades to your Persephone?”

Matthew rolled his eyes. 

“Okay, doctor, nice chat.” 

Chilton’s smile softened and he reached across Matthew to open the omega’s door. It swung open, letting the autumn chill into the car. Matthew breathed deep of the fresh air, thankful to chase away Chilton’s alpha scent. 

“We will chat more tomorrow, dear. Rest, recover.”

Matthew threw one leg out of the car and hesitated again. 

“They didn’t trash the place did they, Crawford and his ilk?”

“I made every appropriate arrangement so that you came home to a peaceful environment, Matthew.”

Despite his distaste at the thought of mating with a weak alpha like Chilton, Matthew was pleased at the alpha’s care. 

Standing in his doorway, hearing Chilton’s car drive off, looking at the pristine insides of his home, Matthew despaired. For a moment, away from the prying eyes of the doctors and nurses and law enforcement, he allowed himself to fall apart, to mourn what he had lost and what he had never possessed. 

***

Despite the promise of clarity in regards to Chilton’s expectations of Matthew, a week went by with no mention of them. Matthew was escorted by the same driver to Chilton’s office every morning for his court appointed therapy sessions...with Chilton, his alpha by law. This arrangement couldn’t be legal but Chilton talked his way around the issue every time Matthew brought it up. 

Matthew, out of spite, returned the favor. They sat in silence for his therapy sessions, ninety minutes of staring at each other, neither one wanting to break. As annoying as it was, the daily battle of stubborn will was all the entertainment Matthew had. 

He dodged questions that Chilton had about Will and Hannibal, answered each with sharp wit and bad jokes. Chilton met his behavior with indulgent smiles and eternal patience. Matthew expected the alpha to grow bored with him, maybe throw him back in the system, place him in a facility and call the matter done. But Chilton never wavered, his single minded focus set on Matthew and the answers he refused to give. 

The last thing Matthew wanted was to talk about Will or Hannibal. Even having endured their callous abandonment, it felt wrong to betray them. Especially to someone like Chilton, who only wanted the fame that came with treating the Chesapeake Ripper. His obsessive focus was almost admirable, calling to a dark part of Matthew, one that had felt the same overwhelming need to _know_ Hannibal and Will, to really _see_ them. 

Getting close to the two alphas had cost him everything, it would surely do the same to Chilton. He would warn the man but he doubted it would do any good. Chilton had come too far, sacrificed too much to stop now. A man with nothing to lose was dangerous and all too often reckless. Matthew only hoped that he would be there when Chilton finally got what he deserved.

His therapy wasn’t the only thing that set Matthew off kilter; Chilton took care of him. As in, the alpha had hired a maid service for Matthew’s apartment, had meals delivered regularly for the omega and had provided Matthew with a plethora of nesting material. He felt wrong using it though and stuffed blankets and body pillows into the far corners of the spare bedroom closet. The thought of using something so intimate provided by a weak alpha foisted upon him made Matthew feel violent and violated. 

It was courting behavior and a small part of Matthew was thrilled. Such attention had never been shown to him, most alphas he met treated him cruelly, expected to take what they wanted and face no consequences. 

If Matthew were different, if he was more...normal, he would welcome Chilton’s attention, be flattered by it and respond positively. But Matthew was Matthew. His could control his violent impulses outside of heat but his heat rage amplified his bloodlust, made his mind fog, his control slip. The only way a man like Chilton, delicate and soft, could satisfy his heat was by way of death. 

It was unlikely that an alpha that could bring Matthew to submit would treat him so well, would care for him like this. He wanted both, he wanted the soft with the rough, the bruising touch and the gentle caress. Such dichotomy was impossible. He should really discourage Chilton’s behavior…

Chilton picked up after two rings. He never kept Matthew waiting long. 

“This needs to stop.”

The silence on the other end of the line was heavy. After a tense moment, Chilton hummed. 

“What does, dear?”

Matthew let out a frustrated sound. 

“That! The pet names, the maid service, the meals...the fucking nesting blankets.”

Chilton had the gall to laugh at him, fond, a little mocking. 

“I’m your alpha, Matthew. It may be in name only but I am compelled to care for you. Has anyone ever done that? Have you ever been treated the way you deserve?”

Matthew was dead silent, too shocked to breath. Chilton hummed again. 

“I thought not. Just enjoy it, omega. And don’t worry, you’ll soon earn your keep.”

The line went dead and Matthew took a deep breath. How ominous. 

***

Thirty minutes into their next session, Chilton seemed to run out of patience. Matthew was sprawled across the chaise longue in the alpha’s stuffy office, arm slung carelessly over his face. Chilton was manically taking notes after every leading question and Matthew was contemplating what Chilton would look like if he stabbed the alpha in the eye with his fancy pen. Matthew had been deathly silent the whole time, what the fuck was Chilton writing? 

The scratching stopped and Chilton cleared his throat. Matthew didn’t acknowledge him. 

“I find myself reluctantly impressed by your stubborn reticence, Matthew.” 

Matthew hummed, his tone bored. 

“I find myself _unimpressed_ by these useless ‘therapy sessions’.” 

Chilton’s pen started scratching again and Matthew’s jaw clenched. He lifted the arm off his face and turned his head to glare at the alpha. 

“What the _fuck_ are you writing?”

Chilton glanced up at Matthew over the rim of his glasses and raised an eyebrow. He set his pen down and steepled his fingers. 

“Are you aware that Will Graham is missing?”

Matthew sat up at that, back straight, an anxious pit opening in his stomach. 

“What?” 

His voice was strangled but he couldn’t control his body, his omega screaming in the back of his mind, _my alpha is in danger._ Chilton gave him a bland smile but Matthew caught a flash of something on his face before he hid it. Envy? Jealousy? 

“Yes, I thought that little bit of news would get a reaction out of you.”

Matthew rose and stalked over to Chilton’s desk, leaning on his hands to loom over Chilton with a snarl. The alpha’s scent soured with subdued fear, sending a thrill through Matthew. _Yes, you bastard, you would do well to fear me._

“Explain.”

Chilton leaned back in his chair and began tapping his pen on the edge of the desk.

“Ah, yes, I was getting to that. Jack Crawford came to see me yesterday, to check in on how Lecter was settling and to ask if I had heard from Graham. I don’t see why I would have, I mean-”

Matthew slammed his fist onto the desk, enjoying the aching pain that spread up his arm and the way Chilton jumped, sending his pen skittering across the hardwood floor. 

“Right. Don’t fear, my dear, Crawford thinks Will left on his own. Although I don’t see why you should care so passionately about a man that willfully abandoned you…” 

Matthew slumped at that, head hanging low between his shoulders. Chilton was right but the instinctual need to protect his pack was still pulling on Matthew, despite the severed pack bonds. There hadn’t been enough time to...move on. If that was even possible. Matthew had a feeling that he was ruined for other mates, that he would never be able to bond. 

He slid back and sat down heavily in the chair behind him, giving Chilton a lazy look as he propped his chin in his palm. 

“Was it your intention to alarm me?”

Chilton shrugged, taking off his glasses and folding them before sliding them into his breast pocket. 

“Perhaps, okay, yes. I wasn’t expecting such a violent reaction. I was curious and…”

Matthew waved his free hand in the air, giving a long suffering sigh. 

“And?”

“My plans for you, for us, involve having you in close proximity to Hannibal Lecter. I wanted to gauge how you behaved in response to one of your previous alphas being brought up in conversation.”

Matthew rolled his eyes. 

“But that’s not what you did. You implied that something bad had happened to Will. ‘Missing’ leads one to think ‘kidnapped’. Followed, perhaps, by ‘tortured’ or ‘killed’. But you’re right, why the fuck should I care?” 

Chilton smiled thinly, looking dubious. 

“It’s alright to care, Matthew. It’s a natural, healthy omegan response.”

He paused to give Matthew an earnest look. Matthew didn’t buy it, the man was too smarmy to believe he possessed actual empathy. 

“Uh huh. How about we move on to those plans you mentioned. I’m extremely bored over here and people tend to get hurt when I’m bored.”

Chilton paused in his shuffling of papers and pinned Matthew with a calculating gaze. Matthew smiled with too many teeth. 

“Just a joke, doc.”

“Of course.”

Chilton began opening drawers in his desk, muttering under his breath. Matthew tuned him out, mind whirling. Will was gone, fled? Why? And where the hell to? Why would Will break ties with everyone and just fucking leave? If Jack Crawford couldn’t find him that meant that no one could. Why wouldn’t Will stay to give testimony against Hannibal? Isn’t this what he wanted, Hannibal made to answer for his crimes against his pack and the public in general? 

It hurt, too. Will had not only broken their bond through neglect but had also left for parts unknown without even the smallest thought to his omega. The yawning pit in his stomach widened. He hadn’t thought the pain could grow any bigger… He only wished he found it as easy to move on as Will clearly did. 

“Ah, yes! Here, my dear.”

Chilton interrupted Matthew’s thoughts by sliding papers across the desk for him to look at, setting his fancy pen next to them. Matthew raised an eyebrow and only leaned forward to read them when Chilton impatiently waved him on. 

“These are...new employee forms?”

Chilton preened, looking pleased with himself. 

“Indeed they are. I’m offering you your previous position back. You’ll have to share my benefits of course but I’ve given you a fair raise.”

Matthew continued to stare at him, face blank. The alpha frowned and leaned back with a slight pout. 

“I thought you would be pleased.”

“I’m just waiting for you to explain the catch to all this. I doubt you’re putting me back on the payroll out of the kindness of your heart.”

Chilton placed a hand over his heart, his expression falsely hurt. 

“My dear omega, I only wish to see you happy.”

_I’d be happy to see you drowning in a pool of your own blood._ Matthew won the stare off and Chilton conceded with a huff. 

“Fine, your patient, your only real responsibility will be Hannibal Lecter. Like with-”

“Will.”

Chilton smirked and opened his mouth to no doubt expound upon his genius plan. Matthew held up a hand. 

“You are one sick son of a bitch, doc. You want to torture me by throwing me in with an alpha that abandoned me? That severed our bond out of, most likely, sadistic spite?”

Chilton frowned and steepled his damn fingers again. Matthew wanted to break every single one. He wanted to storm out of the office with a ‘fuck you’ but he couldn’t. His hands were tied and the bastard knew it. To refuse his alpha anything would be foolish. One word from Chilton could see him ruined and no one would do a damn thing to stop it. 

“My dear omega, that is not my intention. I am simply...curious. Also, Hannibal has been quite closed lipped since he got here. He doesn’t respond to any of my methods...much like yourself.”

Chilton leaned forward, eyes bright. 

“I think that if anyone can get Lecter to respond, to speak openly about his life and crimes; it’s you. His omega.”

“Not his omega, not anymore. He made sure of that.”

“Ah, yes. It’s such a shame that Hannibal was apprehended before he could reach you…” 

Chilton trailed off, looking at Matthew expectantly. Matthew sighed and rubbed his eyes. 

“Okay, I’ll bite. You are implying he never intended to abandon me?”

Chilton hummed. 

“I think that without you, languishing in pain, calling out for your alphas, that Lecter would have fled long before he was caught. I think that Hannibal would have taken you and disappeared with his omega, never to be seen again, with or without Graham.”

Matthew scoffed, suddenly exhausted. 

“That’s ridiculous. Why would you think all that? Hannibal doesn’t give a shit about me.”

Chilton shrugged, smirking again. 

“I guess we can never truly know...unless?”

Matthew snatched the pen off the desk, holding it tight enough that his palm ached. 

“You manipulative bag of dicks. Fine, fine, I’ll do this.”

_I hope Hannibal rips your throat out._

***

According to state laws, Matthew was barred from going back on suppressants because they ‘interfered with his nature’. Chilton was at least apologetic about the situation but the barely suppressed glee in his eyes was telling. The alpha was practically salivating to see how Hannibal would respond to having his former omega so close yet untouchable.  
Matthew had a feeling that Chilton was in over his head. Anything involving Hannibal was an unpredictable situation and more often than not, Hannibal came out on top. 

If Hannibal wanted Matthew, Chilton was serving the omega on a silver platter to the man. But if Hannibal didn’t want Matthew, well, the only collateral was Matthew himself. The omega was an expendable pawn to both alphas, to be moved around and sacrificed at will. And to think Matthew had briefly wished that being courted by Chilton was an option…

But what chafed the most was that Chilton insisted that Matthew was scented religiously by the alpha, a clear indicator that the omega had an alpha and a possessive one at that. It wasn’t the worst thing, smelling like cut grass and salty water but if Chilton was correct and Hannibal still wanted Matthew…

Chilton was just digging his grave deeper. 

It was the unknown that made Matthew cooperate. He couldn’t just walk away from Hannibal without knowing the truth. The timeline made sense, Crawford had started seriously looking into Hannibal the day after Matthew had been put into a medical coma to better ride out his bond withdrawal. Had it been too dangerous to come for Matthew when Hannibal would have felt their bond start to sever? 

It was crude and painful but giving Matthew a mating bite would have stopped the withdrawal and tied them together for life. Had Hannibal wanted to come to him? Had the alpha suffered as Matthew had? Obviously, there was to be no answers from Will, missing as he was. Maybe Matthew could somehow start to heal if he only knew the truth about Hannibal. 

The alpha was either going to give him closure or break his heart again. And really, what was a little more pain in return for the truth? 

No one but Chilton would see their interactions, all videos and notes would be locked away, out of reach to anyone but Chilton himself. 

As Matthew walked down the familiar white washed corridor to Hannibal’s cell, Matthew hoped the bastard enjoyed the fucking show.


	10. A Heart to Heart with Hannibal

Hannibal was turned away from him when Matthew caught his first glimpse of the alpha’s broad back. It was obvious he was not expecting company. Matthew made no sound as he approached the glass of Hannibal’s cell, content to study the man before he was noticed. 

Hannibal’s cell was well appointed, much more so than Will’s had been. It seemed Chilton had gone to further lengths to butter Hannibal up, a vain attempt to get the Chesapeake Ripper to participate in a little quid pro quo. Matthew knew no bribe would work with Hannibal, that the alpha would only reveal what he wanted to, when he wanted to and only for his own gain. 

Chilton seemed a little slower on the uptake. Perhaps, he was just foolishly optimistic or, most likely, just a desperate, grasping idiot. He had given Hannibal an excessive amount of amenities; books, pens, notebooks, extra blankets and pillows, an expensive looking set of charcoal pencils, a fucking _record player_. 

Hannibal looked perfectly at home, sprawled before a wooden desk, legs wide and posture loose, lazily sketching in a fine looking parchment notebook. Faint sounds of classical music floated through the holes in the glass to Matthew’s ears and Hannibal looked as elegant in a drab grey jumpsuit as he did in his five thousand dollar eyesore paisley suits, the bastard. 

His hair was a bit mussed as if he had run an absent hand through it while he worked and the top two buttons of his jumpsuit were open, teasing Matthew with the barest sight of the alpha’s scent gland and the beginnings of his collarbone. He looked deceptively approachable, soft and open in a way that pulled at Matthew’s omega, made him yearn to see the alpha like this in Hannibal’s den...in Matthew’s nest. The calm, domestic scene made an aching pain blossom in Matthew's chest and his throat closed on a sob or a scream. 

Matthew didn’t have the time to decide before Hannibal’s nostrils flared and he whipped his head towards the omega, eyes sharp, muscles tightening as if preparing to rise from his chair and rush forward. 

Hannibal stopped himself with obvious effort and glanced at the camera outside his cell, it’s wide lens trained inside, bright red light a mocking reminder that Chilton was halfway across the hospital, watching every move and reaction of Hannibal’s with vicious glee. His heavy gaze came to rest on Matthew again and this time Matthew didn’t meet those compelling eyes. He ignored the instinct that made him want to return the alpha’s regard with equal hunger and intensity. 

There was a distant panic in the back of Matthew’s mind, coming closer with each silent moment between them and he fought the urge to turn tail and flee. How arrogant of Matthew to think he could do this, that he could face the alpha that abandoned him with poise and indifference. 

He wanted to rage at Hannibal, wanted to wring the alpha’s neck until he coughed up the answer to _Why? Why? Why?_ But a larger part wanted to break down, right there in the fucking corridor, in front of anyone who could see. He wanted to curl up and cry and maybe die but most of all he wanted Hannibal’s arms around him, holding him together, making promises that he didn’t mean and would never keep. 

It felt like a lifetime ago that Matthew had felt nothing day to day. He had been numb since he was a child, the emotions that others seemed to experience with ease impossible to even imagine. Now, though, now Matthew was overwhelmed, inundated with instincts and feelings that consumed him completely. 

He had no pack to anchor him, to channel all of these confusing passions into the pack bonds, to spread and share the burden, yes, but also the joy. He felt raw, fragile and so fucking exhausted, limbs heavy and mind tired. He was getting tired of fighting. So tired. 

Hannibal rose carefully from his seat, elegant and contained as always and Matthew felt a flash of annoyance to see him so controlled. It felt even more isolating, as if the omega was the only one struggling, the only one truly affected by the traumatically severed bond between them. Had Hannibal even felt their connection? Had he sensed Matthew’s despair and agony at all? And if he had, did he even fucking care? 

They stood there, in a stilted, awkward stasis until Matthew moved forward, his arms tired from their burden. Hannibal’s stare was a physical caress on Matthew as he ignored the alpha and presented his lunch, opening the stainless steel sliding deal tray and depositing it within. He began taking the covers off of each dish, rolling his eyes at the contents; roasted herb potatoes, an assortment of cooked greens and a goddamn whole baked fish, its creepy, dead eye looking into Matthew’s soul. He pursed his lips and closed the lid, pushing it towards Hannibal. 

Hannibal chuckled, as close to Matthew as the cell allowed and Matthew startled, eyes flying up in alarm, a shudder going through him to see the other man looking so pleased. He hadn’t heard the alpha approach and at the last minute, Matthew was able to avoid his eyes, his own falling to the open buttons of the jumpsuit, shocked to see that Hannibal had forgone the white tank top underneath. 

Instead, his eyes were met with the sight of Hannibal’s open, exposed throat and the charming spattering of fine, blonde chest hair. The jumpsuit was tight enough that Matthew could see the muscles moving, toned flesh and fluid grace, as Hannibal hummed and opened his side of the drop tray, reaching in and down, forearms flexing as he brought the tray out. 

Matthew felt like his blood had been set on fire and he breathed unsteadily, trembling and wide eyed as Hannibal brought the tray up close and closed his eyes to inhale deeply. This close, Matthew could see that the barest hint of stubble was forming on Hannibal’s chiseled chin and his lips quirked in an arrogant smirk, long alpha canine peeking through; roguish, fucking irresistible. 

Hannibal’s face didn’t stay seductive and relaxed for long. At the end of his long inhale, his eyes flashed open, red and enraged and he pressed himself against the glass, tray clattering to the cell floor, the alpha growling and straining to reach Matthew. Matthew whined in response, aroused at the previous display and confused by the sudden change, mind spinning, overloaded until he caught movement from the corner of his eye; the camera, spinning to a better position to observe them. 

Right, shit, Chilton had scented him before this stupid little venture, pressing his wrist to Matthew’s neck and arms, covering him and making the omega want to vomit. It felt wrong, smelled all wrong, made him ache for the relief of a shower and the ability to scrub the unworthy alpha from his sensitive skin.

Matthew stumbled back, shaking, feeling sick and turned to leave, his job done for now. 

“Omega! Come here, Matthew. Don’t dare to flee from me.”

Hannibal’s tone was guttural, feral but Matthew didn’t turn back, the urge to obey the alpha dulled by the severed bond between them. He would have never had the strength to resist before but now, well, Hannibal wasn’t his alpha, the man had made sure of that.

Matthew ignored the fact that Hannibal had been so furious to smell Chilton on him. Was it because it was Chilton, the rivalry between the two alphas coming into play? Or was it because Matthew had smelled like any other alpha when he should only smell like pack? Like Hannibal? Like...mate?

***

Dimly, distantly, Matthew realized he was experiencing a panic attack. Hannibal’s enraged growl echoed like a death knell in his head as he crouched, hidden by a dumpster in the smoking area behind the hospital. Nowhere inside the BSHCI felt safe and even out here, exposed and vulnerable, the scent of Chilton followed. 

Matthew scratched at the glands on his wrist and neck, nails digging into flesh, desperate to scour himself clean any way he could. He gasped in too thin air, knees pressed into his chest, back to the cold, dirty brick wall. 

Minutes later, hours, maybe, Matthew calmed enough to breathe more deeply, his face wet. He was thoroughly ashamed of his hubris. He should have listened to his doctor’s ominous warning that it would take time to heal from such traumatic bond separation. He should have fought for more time from Chilton before throwing himself in front of Hannibal. 

There was no one to take care of Matthew, no one to look out for him. He had to fight for his own damn self. Chilton sure as fuck didn’t care, the alpha sure as hell hadn’t followed him out here. He was probably in his stuffy office taking notes and jacking his tiny cock to the furious rage on Hannibal’s face. 

Matthew huffed a laugh at that thought and ran a trembling hand over his aching eyes, pressing gently to clear his fuzzy vision. It smelled horrible in the little space he had made for himself, a dumpster on each side; rotting food and the cloying scent of blood and what Matthew was sure was straight up feces. 

He made a disgusted sound and shoved his way out, trying not to gag as he stumbled to the electrified fence and the keypad in front of it. His code worked and the chain link gate slid open, the longing for his nest and comfort a siren call he refused to resist.   
Fuck Chilton and his useless, hurtful schemes. He was done for the day. 

***

Chilton must have felt more than a bit guilty because it was a week before he called Matthew back to work, his firm, impatient tone warning Matthew not to argue. The time and space had worked in Matthew’s favor. He felt more centered, calmer when he thought of Hannibal and his meltdown. He was able to analyze the interaction without his omega screaming in his mind that he had displeased his alpha, the urge to return and placate the man dulled. 

Hannibal had been pissed. It made Matthew feel utterly smug to have affected the alpha in such a way. Yes, it could have been an act, some play against Chilton, knowing the man was watching but Matthew was disinclined to think so. A man could play act, pretend and adopt any number of convincing affectations but scent never lied. Matthew had smelled the rage on Hannibal; an acrid, sour burning undertone, the damp earth of his scent turned into a choking decay, the rotting wood overwhelmed by sweet, parasitic fungus. 

His scent was no less intoxicating, more so even, knowing that it was for Matthew, the alpha’s rage so deep that Hannibal hadn’t been able to control his reactions. How often had Hannibal been made to lose himself? A man so meticulous in every aspect, his facade torn to pieces in an instant. Had Will ever affected him so-

No, no. Matthew refused to follow that thought down the rabbit hole. He closed his locker and tugged on his oversized white scrub top before hunching his shoulders and hugging his jacket close, as if the action would stave off reality. He had to play Chilton’s foolish game until the alpha got bored or Matthew achieved whatever end Chilton had in mind. 

As much as he wanted to, Matthew couldn’t string Chilton up and bleed him dry. He couldn’t just dispose of his court appointed yoke and slunk into the shadows forever. Crawford was still keeping an eye on him, checking in with Chilton every day about Matthew’s ‘rehabilitation’. Matthew was stuck and the feeling of being cornered, collared and caged made him want to lash out, strike with his knife and rend any tender flesh he happened to meet, no matter who it belonged to. 

The only relief had been his missed heat. He had been assured that his heat schedule would be erratic following the breaking of two scent bonds, possibly for the rest of his life. Matthew was one of the few omegas in the country that had survived such an occurrence. Lucky him. Now no one could tell him what to expect. Would he ever have another heat, would he ever produce enough bonding chemicals for a mating bite to take hold one day? 

Matthew slammed his hand back against the locker, the loud noise and the flash of pain clearing his spiraling thoughts. Why was he still thinking about bonding? He didn’t want a mate one day, someone to own him, use him and one day abandon him again. In all of his lonely wandering years, Matthew had only found Will and Hannibal worthy to be his mates. Truly, a flash in the pan; there was no one in the world as terrible and beautiful as them. 

Maybe he wouldn’t have the great love story he had dreamed of but he also wouldn’t feel this aching, tearing pain ever again. He just had to get through this. Then he could find a way to Italy, to his little house and hopefully, Abigail. There was no way to know if she had made the journey safely there. Had she already moved on or was she still waiting patiently, secure in her faith that they would meet again? Matthew needed a little of that faith now. 

***

The next five days were filled with restraint and patience for Matthew. He restrained himself from speaking with Hannibal and was patient in his dealings with an increasingly frustrated Chilton. Chilton wanted him to engage fully with Hannibal, tease and cajole and match wits with the alpha, use his omega charm to reveal Hannibal's most guarded secrets. 

Matthew refused, unnaturally stoic and quiet when dealing with Hannibal, never meeting his eyes, professional and succinct. Hannibal tried to draw him out, mocking and cutting one instant then soft and purring gently the next. It rattled Matthew more than he showed and he kept well enough away from the holes in the glass cell so that Hannibal couldn’t scent the way he was affected, couldn’t press into his weak spots and crumble the shaky walls he had erected around his heart. 

Although nothing he did stopped the sound of Hannibal’s purring rumble of ‘_sweet little one_’ following Matthew into his dreams every night. And no one was in his home to look over his shoulder and judge him if he looked up the opera Hannibal recommended to him. Or if he seriously contemplated visiting the local farmer’s market Hannibal spoke warmly of, his face fond as he recalled the exacting process by which his favorite vendor made their famous wild raspberry jam. 

Hannibal spoke to Matthew as if they were equals, friends, the way Matthew imagined he had once spoken to Will. Or perhaps Abigail. It was intoxicating having Hannibal’s full attention on him. It filled his head with fantasies that he couldn’t afford to have. Like what his house in Italy would be like with Hannibal and Will living there, the full pack united. Would Hannibal be as gentle in Matthew’s nest, would Will? 

***

He knew his petty protest couldn’t last long. 

“Weekly inspection, my dear. I expect you to be thorough.”

Matthew sighed and pressed his head against the wall in the laundry room, straining to hear Chilton’s terse voice over the washing machines. 

“Right, sure. I’ll conduct an inspection of Lecter’s cell during his shower time.” 

Chilton huffed out an amused, condescending laugh. 

“No, no, Matthew. Where would the fun be in that? You’ll do it now, post haste. I have meetings in the afternoon.”

Matthew curled his lip, disgust and panic making his limbs weak. 

“Uh huh, I almost forgot your creepy propensity for non consensual voyeurism. You really want me alone in the cell with Hannibal, no glass wall or armed guard to protect me against an alpha obsessed with me while I’m rifling through his things? I’m not an idiot, Fred. He’s close to rut and you want to throw me in his unsecured territory? I can’t do your bidding if I’m dead.”

Chilton’s responding laugh was closer to a cackle and Matthew pressed the receiver harder against his ear, wishing he were in the room with the alpha, could reach across his too wide desk and smash his smug face into its shining surface. Maybe take a twinkling eye out with one of his fancy pens. His condescending tone made a red haze of repressed violence fall in front of Matthew’s eyes, obscuring his surroundings and making his omega want to pace and growl. 

“Oh, my dear, dear omega. He won’t kill you. He wouldn’t dare and don’t worry nothing will happen while I’m watching.”

“Hannibal isn’t afraid of you, Chilton. He’ll do what he wants and damn the consequences. You have no power over him.”

Chilton tsked, sounds creaking over the phone as if he reclined in his chair. Matthew could picture him, one leg crossed over the other, a smug smile on his face as he played the phone cord. He could also easily picture himself, behind him, unseen and menacing, waiting to strike. Or Hannibal in his place, leaning over the back of Chilton’s chair and snapping his neck, clean and efficient, no time wasted on inferior prey. 

“That is where you are wrong, Matthew. I have all the power in this little game. I have what he wants; you. And I can so easily take you away from him. Hannibal will play nice, don’t worry your pretty head about-”

With a snarl, Matthew slammed the receiver down, cutting off whatever offensive drivel Chilton was spouting before he marched himself to the man’s office and did something satisfying but foolish, like break every bone in his fucking body. 

He turned, decided and made his way to Hannibal’s cell, nodding to the guard at the head of the corridor and refusing an escort. Hannibal didn’t greet him as he normally would, watching as Matthew paced back and forth in front of his cell, the alpha’s hands folded behind his back, a half smile on his face. 

Matthew growled at him and punched the wall, feeling a small measure of relief when the thin skin on his knuckles split and the sweet scent of his blood filled the air. He was even more pleased when he turned to Hannibal to see his amused smile twist into a disappointed moue. 

Hannibal opened his mouth but Matthew turned away from him, jumping at the camera in the corner and catching the cords as he fell. They severed easily under his weight, the bright red light going dead. He turned back to the cell and held the key up, shooing Hannibal back with his free hand. Hannibal obliged, stepping to the back of the cell but his jaw tensed as he clenched it.

“Fucking asshole Chilton. He wants an inspection, I’ll do a goddamn inspection but he won’t be breathing down my neck for it.”

He kept Hannibal in the corner of his eye as he stepped up to the desk in the cell, leaving the door open wide behind him. At this point, he couldn’t care less if Hannibal knocked him unconscious and razed a bloody path as he fled his cage. It would serve Chilton right. Matthew was getting real tired of being his disposable lackey. 

But Hannibal didn’t move from his position at the back of the cell, arms loose at his side and posture deceptively relaxed. Normally, it would send alarm bells ringing in Matthew’s head but he ignored the alpha and began paging through his journals, not stopping long enough to read anything, looking haphazardly for contraband he knew wouldn’t be there. Hannibal’s voice when he spoke was soft, bland. 

“You seem agitated, omega.”

“No shit.”

Matthew snorted and turned his back on Hannibal to reach for a large, heavy anatomy tome. He slammed it on the desk with more force than he meant to, the vibration dislodging some of the hanging sketches behind the desk and sending them to the floor. He didn’t hear Hannibal move but he felt his presence at his back, a wall of heat suddenly there, his scent washing over Matthew and making his breath catch. Hannibal’s arms came up to cage him in, one settling, white knuckled, gripping the edge of the desk near Matthew’s hip, the other laying gently on the cover of the book. 

He could smell Hannibal’s irritation and he ducked his head, exposing the back of his neck to the alpha at his back, a silent plea for mercy. The tense air between them was displaced as Hannibal leaned nearer, making the hair on Matthew’s nape rise. His chest, so close, pressed briefly into Matthew’s back as the alpha set his nose to Matthew’s scent gland and inhaled, slow and controlled. 

“Little one…”

Matthew shivered, swallowing a whine as Hannibal exhaled and pressed a soft kiss to Matthew’s neck, his hot breath washing over him. Matthew hated and loved what Hannibal did to him in equal measure and he resisted the urge to press back against him, stopping his body from arching back even as he felt himself getting slick.

“I understand that you are angry, frustrated but I must insist that you treat what little possessions I have with respect and care.”

Hannibal’s voice was a pleasant purr but when Matthew timidly peeked over his shoulder to meet his gaze, the alpha’s eyes were slit, reptilian, dangerous, his scent blooming into a pungent loam, betraying his ire. The musk of Hannibal’s approaching rut added another layer of danger, a promise of violence unrestrained. Matthew turned quickly and tilted his head submissively to Hannibal’s continued explorations on his neck, feeling the man’s lips curve into a slight smile as he whispered, 

“Yes, alpha.”

Hannibal hummed in approval and stepped back, leaving Matthew feeling bereft, cold. He took a deep breath and ran a trembling hand gently over the cover of the book, another silent apology and carefully opened it to continue his inspection. He paused as he opened the heavy, intricate cover, surprised to see a perfectly pressed letter bearing Will’s messy handwriting. 

Matthew bit his lip and glanced over his shoulder. Hannibal was prowling the cell, keeping his body between Matthew and the open door. What should have felt stifling or alarming felt more protective and he relaxed, knowing that Hannibal was more concerned with possible threats coming from the corridor than he was with Matthew reading his private missives.

The urge to peek was too overwhelming and it grew irresistible as he read the posted mail date; last week. Hannibal was in contact with Will, knew where Will was and possibly why he had cut contact and fled. Before he could open the letter, Hannibal was speaking to him again. He could feel the heavy weight of the alpha’s gaze and he slowly closed the book, sliding the letter into the front pocket of his scrubs with one hand while moving the book into its position on the desk with the other. 

“I am quite curious, little one. How did you find your way into my den, my workshop? I found no trace of you that night, only a missing pup.”

Matthew’s fingers clenched around the sketchbook in his hands, shoulders coming up to his ears as if to hide himself away. But Hannibal didn’t sound angry, only faintly amused so he relaxed, turning his head to see the alpha’s face. Hannibal was still blocking the open door, half turned towards Matthew, his face blank but eyes rimmed alpha red. 

The casual air around him was an obvious ploy, well, obvious to someone like Matthew, so tuned to his moods. Despite the danger, Matthew couldn’t help the mischievous wave that rose in his breast, the urge to push, poke and dig under the skin. He always assumed that’s what would get him killed one day, being a little shit. He shrugged but didn’t turn away, eyes alert for any sudden movement from the alpha. 

“It wasn’t difficult to find my way in. At the time I assumed you were too arrogant to adequately protect your territory. Thinking you were too high and mighty, a rich idiot null or beta, underestimating those around you.”

Hannibal turned his head more fully to take in Matthew, head tilting slightly, like an owl, still and predatory, watching an oblivious mouse moving through the tall grass below. It made Matthew shiver, the inherent danger in Hannibal’s posture doing nothing to dull his arousal. He knew what Hannibal was capable of, had seen his violence and genius up close more than once. Fuck, he wanted the alpha still, his omega calling silently, desperately for Hannibal to draw closer. 

“At the time? And now?”

Matthew smirked. 

“Well, I found your...workshop, you called it. The tools...the meat. That wasn’t the only time I saw behind the curtain, Hannibal. That night at the Observatory, with Beverly Katz…”

In the blink of an eye, Hannibal had tensed and turned fully toward him, eyes fully red. His scent was full of that pungent, overwhelming decay again, blasting a warning into Matthew’s senses, telling his instincts that he was walking a knife’s edge.

One wrong word and Hannibal would react. Had anyone been so overt when discussing these things with Hannibal? Had the alpha talked circles around his shadow dealings, dropping hints and tasteless jokes to an oblivious audience? Giving just enough for doubt, not enough for clarity? Hopefully the novelty alone would prevent Hannibal from reacting too harshly. 

Matthew turned to face Hannibal, leaning back on the desk and holding his hands up, still smirking. 

“Relax, alpha, I was nothing but impressed with your work. Wish I could have seen the whole process, start to finish. I bet you’re magnificent when you work.”

Hannibal’s shoulders softened but he still stayed silent, eyes tracking Matthew’s every move. As if Matthew stood a chance against such a strong alpha outside of his heat. The heat rage made him much more lethal, magnifying his instincts, his reflexes and strength. Not to be too arrogant but Matthew considered them well matched then, as long as Hannibal was out of rut. 

But as he was, against Hannibal...impossible to fight and win. He had to stay submissive, use his silver tongue. He crossed his arms, posture still loose and tapped a finger to his   
bottom lip, affecting a thoughtful mien. 

“I think, from what I’ve seen, you are _very_ impressive, Hannibal. Truly, an alpha above all alphas.”

It was funny, watching Hannibal preen. He straightened his shoulders and threw his head back, red eyes glinting, very pleased at the compliment. His scent took on a sweet edge to it and Matthew breathed deeply of it, drunk on the rich loamy smell blossoming towards him. His omega wanted to preen back, he had pleased his alpha- He shook his head. 

Matthew smirked at him, giving a shy look from under his eye lashes before he spoke, tone even and dry. 

“But a real shit father.” 

Hannibal stalled his preening and went unnaturally still again, the air between them growing thick. The alpha’s scent soured at that and his face ticked, betraying his irritation. Matthew ignored it, stroking his chin and pinning Hannibal with a fierce, disappointed gaze. Abigail’s sad eyes when they met urging him on. He refused to back away from this when Hannibal had hurt Abigail, willfully, used her as nothing more than a pawn to one day control Will. Hidden her away and gas-lighting her to keep her compliant.   
Who knows how that part of their fucked up game would have ended. Bloody, if Matthew had to guess. 

“It’s unfortunate, really. You would make a wonderful protector, the best, actually. Your mate would be lucky, they would never have to fear, safe in your den. You seem like an excellent provider, free with what you have to those you consider yours. But, me, personally…”

He shook his head, pouting, turning his head to stretch out his neck. Showing Hannibal what he couldn’t have. Foolish but oh, so satisfying to watch the alpha gaze longingly at his unmarked scent gland. Yes, Hannibal wanted him, the alpha fiercely covetous. But did he deserve Matthew? Matthew wasn’t the type to forgive. Even if Abigail already had, even if she still loved Hannibal and wanted him in their pack. 

“I want pups, as many as my alpha can breed into me. I want my womb to be full of my alpha, my alphas. I want our den to be happy, full of life. I’ve been so lonely, Hannibal…” 

Hannibal took a step towards Matthew, his face pinched and worried but Matthew held a hand up. He stopped, looking torn and frustrated. Matthew cleared his throat and forced a shaky grin on his face, hugging his jacket close around his middle, chin dipped down, vulnerable. Damn, he hadn’t meant to reveal so much. He had only wanted to criticize Hannibal. 

“I regret my treatment of Abigail.”

Hannibal’s voice, soft and bare, made Matthew look up again, hope rising in his chest. Hannibal sighed and clasped his hands behind his back again, turning his head to check the open door before giving Matthew his full attention. 

“I was much more...numb before I met Will. I existed in a state of grey dullness, moving through my life, suppressing my inner self. Alone, unfulfilled.”  
Hannibal took a deep breath, as if to brace himself for his next words. Matthew swallowed thickly, disconcerted at the feeling of kinship he felt at Hannibal’s words. He had felt the same before meeting Will. 

“Will was a breath of fresh air, spring come to sweep away the winter of my life, bringing flowers, bright colors...hope. And when I saw the way he treated Abigail, the way he longed to love her and protect her…”

His smile was bitter, self deprecating. Matthew clenched his fists on the sleeves of his jacket, resisting the instinct to reach out, to comfort. 

“Instead of embracing such a bright, young ray of sunshine, I endeavored to use her for my own ends, to her detriment. It wasn’t until I came home to find her gone, when I couldn’t find her, thought her lost forever...I realized I had squandered a precious gift. She loved me once, blindly and fully. Embraced me as a second father and wanted to help me woo Will. She urged me to be truthful with him, make amends, reparations. Beg, if I had to.” 

He didn’t protest as Hannibal stepped close to him, watching with wary eyes as the alpha lifted his hand to gently cup Matthew’s cheek. He nuzzled into the warmth, closing his eyes, heart aching at the look of desperate regret in Hannibal’s mesmerizing eyes. He wanted to resist the pull he felt to Hannibal but the alpha was too compelling, too seductive, too perfect. Gentle and lethal, unpredictable and fascinating. How could anyone withstand the temptation of him for long? 

Matthew longed to believe Hannibal’s pretty words but his mind was so clouded, his omega so twisted and wretched, whispering _mate, alpha, mine_. 

“I was too proud, little one. I was confident in my ability to win an unnecessary game, that I could lead Will into his Becoming, change him to have him, to keep him.”

Hannibal pressed their foreheads together, his breath blooming against Matthew’s trembling lips, making them ache for a kiss, for rough lips against his and sharp teeth to rend tender flesh. He kept his eyes closed, too afraid of what he would see in Hannibal’s face. Too afraid to fold so quickly, forgive too easily. 

“You, beloved, taught me humility. A lesson I never imagined to one day learn. One that I see was necessary for our pack to truly thrive. Without you, I would have destroyed all that was precious to me.”

Matthew whimpered at the feel of Hannibal’s lips, pressing a kiss to his forehead. He sobbed when Hannibal did it again, murmuring sweet words.

“Sweet little one, beloved, mylimasis, omega.”

He felt split open, raw and bleeding, love rising so sharply in his heart that he panicked, pushing Hannibal back roughly, making the alpha stumble. There was a wetness on his face and Matthew swiped at it, realizing after a moment that he was crying, so overwhelmed by yearning and despair. Hannibal didn’t touch him again, keeping his distance, his scent betraying his hurt. 

Matthew edged around him, shrinking away and fleeing out of the cell. He closed and locked the door with shaking hands and cleared his throat, not meeting Hannibal’s eyes when he spoke. 

“I-I’ll be back with your dinner...later. I-”

He shook his head, huffing a bitter laugh before turning his back and rushing down the corridor. He needed space, a little time to think about Hannibal’s confession. Was his regret genuine? Or just another ploy to lure Matthew in?


	11. A Passionate Embrace, An Understanding

Chilton intercepted Matthew as he was making his way to the employee lounge, stepping in his path as he was daydreaming about the brand new bottle of bourbon waiting for him at home. He needed a damn drink to even begin to process what Hannibal had said and done. 

The alpha had seemed sincere but Matthew knew, had witnessed first hand, how good Hannibal was at deception. His persona as a null, harmless psychiatrist had been good enough to fool everyone around him for a decade. Matthew may have a rare insight into Hannibal, by way of their previous pack connection, but he wasn’t arrogant enough to think himself immune to Hannibal’s charm. 

And fuck, Matthew _wanted_ Hannibal’s words to be true. He _wanted_ the soft touches, loving pet names and promises of a future together to be genuine. How much of a fucking idiot was he to believe in a man like Hannibal, a consummate lone wolf, the Chesapeake Ripper. Hannibal, who had betrayed his pack, Will, Abigail and Matthew. 

His actions had been callous, insidious and now he, what, wanted a second chance? Would the results really be different? Had Hannibal truly changed or was he just playing another game. And where did Will fit into this future pack? Hannibal had expressed regret and a deep regard for Will. Did he still love him, as much as a man like Hannibal could love? 

There were no answers to these questions, not after only one serious conversation between them and Will having vanished. Had Will abandoned his revenge and left Matthew and Hannibal to their fates? Matthew wished he could just walk away from this and he would have, before, had he not been stuck in place by the consequences of his attack on Hannibal. 

An attack meant to show Will of his worth as a mate and his deep loyalty to their little pack. How naive he had been, to think that he would ever have meant anything to Will. But Hannibal, here and now, in front of him and real, touchable, saying all the sweet things Matthew had ached to hear on lonely nights...well, Matthew couldn’t walk away from that. 

Matthew had to know if Hannibal was telling the truth, if he really wanted Matthew to be his omega, his mate. Because an alpha like Hannibal would never come around again and Matthew was tired of waiting and searching for a worthy mate. He would have Hannibal and if this was all some kind of sick joke, he would make Hannibal regret ever trying to fuck with him. He had bested the alpha once, he could do it again. And next time, he wouldn’t hesitate to shoot the fucker. 

Chilton’s abrupt appearance brought him up short and he raised an eyebrow, adopting a casual, uncaring air. The man looked livid, face red and hands clenched at his side. The snarl on his face would have made Matthew cautious, if only he didn’t know that Chilton was incapable of being a real threat, weak willed, too scared of pain and confrontation.   
The two guards behind him, one at each shoulder, did put Matthew on edge. Especially when Chilton snapped his fingers and they moved to flank Matthew. He stood up straighter, muscles tensing and on high alert. Apparently, Chilton wasn’t above outsourcing for his intimidation needs. The alpha spoke, his voice a low hiss, as if afraid to be overheard.

“I didn’t appreciate the stunt you pulled, Mr Brown. Disabling the cameras to a patient that is a high level threat like Hannibal Lecter-”

Matthew laughed and rolled his eyes, not impressed. 

“Come on, doc. You’re only concerned that I deprived you of any juicy, incriminating bits that Hannibal dropped in our, frankly, _fascinating_ discussion. I mean, wow, the secrets he told me-”

Chilton let out a low growl and took a step forward, his whole body shaking in poorly suppressed rage. Matthew forced himself to relax and not react to the looming thugs behind him, too close for comfort and the fuming alpha before him. They were in a public corridor, two steps from the lobby of the mental hospital. He could hear the sounds of people talking and moving, going about their shifts with quiet efficiency. This was a public space with a lot of witnesses. What could Chilton really do-

The rough, crooked slap across his cheek was more shocking than it was painful. When he didn’t react, just stared wide eyed at the white painted wall to his left, Chilton did it again, harder. Matthew tensed, slowly bringing his head back around to face Chilton and didn’t fight when the guards behind him each brought a hand to his shoulders, squeezing, tight and painful, in a silent warning. 

The corridor seemed to warp and close in around them but the shock and disorientation didn’t stop Matthew from growling and lunging for Chilton, teeth bared and clawed hands grasping for any part of the bastard he could reach. His face was on fire, Chilton hadn’t held back and the rage that crawled up from his chest to consume every part of him was a relief from the emotional upheaval Hannibal had given him. 

Physical pain, abuse, an angry, impotent alpha, Matthew knew exactly what to do with that; kill them. The red haze that filled his mind and his vision was a familiar one and Matthew embraced it, straining against the hands holding him back to get at the alpha who had hurt him over and over again. 

Whatever Chilton saw, Matthew’s anger, his homicidal intentions, it was enough for the man to pale and stumble backwards, cane falling to the floor, forgotten. He fell against the nearest wall, panting, his scent sour with terror. Matthew wouldn’t be surprised if he had pissed himself, the coward. 

He struggled against the guards until one of them got him in a headlock, thickly muscled arm tight enough around his throat that after a few moments, he gasped for breath and went lax, the edges of his vision starting to go black. The hold on him softened when Matthew went still and, seeing that he was incapacitated, Chilton gathered his nerve.

He stood up, throwing his shoulders back, hands still trembling and smoothed out his suit, adopting a haughty expression as he stepped up to Matthew again. He shook his head in mock sadness and waved his hand at the guards. 

“I think Matthew needs to cool down, don’t you? Escort him to the showers, please, gentlemen.”

The guy holding Matthew let go of his neck and Matthew drew in a loud, gasping breath. Still weak from lack of oxygen, he didn’t fight as they dragged him away. He faintly registered the metallic ‘clacking’ sound of Chilton’s cane hitting the floor following them as they went deeper into the hospital, away from people, witnesses. 

His brain was still fuzzy, vision a bit blurred and he slumped, ragdolling his way, making the guards take all of his weight. It was hard to think, impossible to escape, his instincts sending one big blaring alarm to his brain. They slammed their way through a set of double doors and it took Matthew a moment to recognize the familiar tile beneath his hovering feet. He cleared his burning throat and attempted an obnoxious grin, voice hoarse. 

“Jesus, Freddy. Gonna have your goons shank me in the shower, teach me a lesson?”

He let out a groan as they threw him down under the nearest shower head and he slumped against the wall behind him. The guards drew back, faces blank and stood a few feet away, arms crossed as Chilton sauntered close. Matthew hissed when Chilton bent down, leaning heavily on his cane with one hand and pulling tight on Matthew’s hair with the other. He arched, back bowing taut, baring his teeth at the humiliation. 

He had been caught off guard by Chilton, too slow to fight back even if he could have. Powerless against a craven fool. In that moment, staring into Chilton’s satisfied, smug face, he wished for Hannibal. Not only to save him, to stop this but more to just have someone on his side for once. Someone to agree with him that the abuse that every single alpha had perpetrated against him was wrong, that Matthew deserved more than to be spit upon and used as a pawn.

Why had Matthew grown so complacent around Chilton, to think that for an instant the man had an ounce of integrity? Matthew felt so fucking stupid. This was how it would always end, him hurt and humiliated, vulnerable and at the feet of an alpha more powerful than he would ever be. Just because Matthew hadn’t been born with a fucking knot.   
Would Will and Hannibal really be any different? 

“Don’t ever disobey me again. Do you hear me, Matthew? If you truly insist on acting like a hysterical omega bitch, I’m more than capable of treating you like one.” 

Chilton let go of Matthew’s hair roughly, making him wince and reached up. Matthew gasped as ice cold water rained down on him, whining and curling in on himself, hiding his face in his knees. 

“Now cool off and get then get back to work. I’m sure we both don’t want a repeat of today, right? You won’t make me hurt you again will you, Matthew? Answer me, omega.”

Matthew grit his teeth and forced stilted words past his frozen lips. 

“W-whatever you say, D-doctor Chilton.” 

“That’s a good boy.”

When Matthew had the strength to raise his head again, he was alone.

*** 

A change of scrubs and a hot cup of stale coffee later, Matthew made his way back to Hannibal, desperate to be near the alpha. Hannibal rose to his feet upon seeing him and watched avidly as Matthew slid his dinner tray into the cell. Matthew stepped back and crossed his arms, still feeling cold and flayed open. Vulnerable. 

Hannibal hesitated before he took the tray, a small frown tightening the skin around his mouth and eyes. He crossed to his bed and sat, placing the tray at his elbow on the desk. Matthew watched in silence, mind foggy and wished that Hannibal could hold him, block out the world for a few moments. 

But the cameras had been fixed and he dared not touch them again. Chilton was more devious than he looked and Matthew didn’t feel like pushing against him again so soon. Would he take out Matthew’s rebellious behavior on Hannibal? Was there a line Chilton wouldn’t cross in his abuse of Matthew or would the alpha take any measure, no matter how distasteful, to reach his goals. Presumably the goal of the exclusive book rights on the Chesapeake Ripper and his fifteen minutes of fame. 

“You are quiet this evening, little one. Still thinking of our previous conversation? I meant every word.” 

Matthew blinked a few times and looked up, taking in the carefully bland look on Hannibal’s face with slight amusement. He tilted his head towards the camera and Hannibal’s gaze flicked to the bright red light glaring down at them. Hannibal’s lip lifted in a slow smirk and he hummed. 

“Can you…?” 

Unconsciously, Matthew lifted his hand to his cheek, still sore and a little red from Chilton’s unforgiving open palm. Hannibal followed the gesture with narrowed eyes and rose gracefully, crossing the cell to stand as close to Matthew as he could. His nostrils flared, trying to catch the omega’s scent. Matthew cleared his throat and dropped his hand, thinking of Chilton in his office, watching them intently. 

“No, ah, not now. Probably never again.” 

Hannibal’s jaw clenched and his lip lifted, the beginnings of a snarl. 

“What happened? If Chilton-”

Matthew shook his head sharply, narrowing his eyes in warning. 

“Listen, if you’re done with dinner, I can take you to the showers. Or you can wait for the night shift. Your call.”

The guards in this wing would be more than happy to take them there and then stand outside of the doors. Matthew had worked with them for years and they had an understanding; an exchange of certain favors for privacy. Maybe Matthew turned his head when a guard gut punched a patient or didn’t speak out when certain drugs changed specific hands. 

Hannibal followed his silent lead and nodded, going to face the back of the cell, hands on the wall as Matthew radioed for an armed escort. It was all worth it for moments like these, when Matthew needed privacy to talk to his alpha. Matthew smiled to himself grimly at that thought as he replaced the radio into his back pocket, glancing at Hannibal’s stoic back. _His alpha_. Fuck. He was tired of fighting the way Hannibal drew him in, the undeniable attraction he felt for the man. 

He just wanted to let go, to close his eyes and trust that Hannibal would always keep him steady as he stumbled blindly through life. Solutions for the rest of their problems would come later; Abigail, Will, Hannibal being incarcerated. Right now he just needed Hannibal to be honest with him, to drop these games and let him in, to trust Matthew in return. Would he? 

Hannibal didn’t fight the restraints the guards placed on him, didn’t fight the rough treatment as they shoved him out of the cell, hands on their guns the whole way to the showers. Matthew stayed silent as well, walking ahead of them, trying to gather his thoughts. 

The guards nodded to Matthew after shoving Hannibal into the showers and Matthew nodded back as they left. Hannibal waited just long enough for Matthew to engage the electronic lock before he was in Matthew’s space, backing him against the doors and raising a gentle hand to his reddened cheek. Matthew whined and pressed into the touch, closing his eyes and taking deep breaths of Hannibal’s loamy scent. 

“_He hit you_.”

Matthew took in a trembling breath, closing his eyes and relishing in the outrage in Hannibal’s tone. He swallowed thickly and nodded, throat too tight to speak, not knowing what to say. No one had ever cared so much when Matthew had been hurt. They were more likely to say it was his fault and turn away, derisive and dismissive. He felt Hannibal’s forehead touch his, the alpha’s breath puffing against his lips and Matthew smiled, small and relieved. 

Hannibal brought a hand up to grip the back of Matthew’s neck and he melted into the hold, body going limp. Hannibal’s other arm wrapped around him, pulling him into the alpha’s warmth. Matthew’s smile grew as he pressed against Hannibal, the alpha was all lithe muscle, strong and sturdy. Hannibal pressed their foreheads tighter and then guided Matthew’s face into his neck, letting the omega nuzzle into his scent gland.

The intimacy their embrace created was overwhelming and Matthew felt his body reacting, growing wet and open. They both took a few moments to breathe the other in and Matthew felt it the second Hannibal scented his slick. He felt the alpha’s body tense and reveled in the thundering growl that followed. Matthew whined and squirmed in Hannibal’s arms, mind growing fuzzy as he inhaled their combined smell, like a decaying autumn forest after a heavy rain. Hannibal’s scent teased the faintest hint of rut, calling to his omega, promising dominance, protection and possessive care. _Strong alpha, my alpha_. 

He wanted to crawl inside Hannibal, to never leave the shelter of the alpha’s arms for the rest of their lives. Now that he knew what it was for an alpha to want him, would he ever recover if this was all a game? A pretty, seductive lie to twist and mold Matthew to Hannibal’s immediate needs? There were too many unknowns and Hannibal had manipulated Will, tried to change and hurt what he should have cherished. Could someone like Hannibal truly change? Or was it the people around Hannibal that had to adapt while Hannibal paid lip service, promising devotion even as he held a poison dagger behind his back? 

Matthew wished fervently that he could talk to Will or Abigail. They had known Hannibal longer and Will knew Hannibal down to the marrow in his bones, knew with certainty what the hidden parts of Hannibal looked like, how dark, how loving, how wretched, how sanguine. 

But Hannibal’s scent couldn’t lie, could it? Right now it was all protective alpha, calming Matthew even as it aroused him. Could Matthew even trust his own omega instincts? Not long ago, he had trusted his and followed his omega straight to Will. Knowing with a fanatic confidence that Will was his alpha, believing with a naive certainty that Will would acknowledge him, love him, build a life and home with Matthew and Abigail. All because of a fucking scent bond that had proved to be a connection too fragile, a bond that only brought Matthew devastation and pain. 

His swirling thoughts skittered away as Hannibal tightened the hand at his nape, sure fingers pressing into his scent gland. Matthew gasped and pressed his face more firmly against Hannibal’s neck, panting open mouthed, body singing. No one had ever gentled Matthew like this and it brought a sedate calm over him. In his alpha’s arms he was safe from all others, even if not from Hannibal himself. 

“What craven excuse did he give to abuse you?”

Matthew blinked his eyes open, lifting his head to meet Hannibal’s blazing red ones. Matthew’s eyelids drooped, becoming hooded as he stared at Hannibal’s handsome face. He wanted to reach up and run his tongue over Hannibal’s large canines, he wanted to press his lips over every inch of the alpha’s righteous expression. A warmth, a glow spread out from his chest and saturated his shaking limbs and he smiled, feeling drunk on Hannibal’s thickening scent, his quick defense, the utter hatred he could see for Chilton in Hannibal’s eyes. He chuckled, surprising himself and Hannibal, tongue loose and thoughts scattered. 

“He’s my alpha you know. Chilton that is. In the eyes of the law he can do whatever the fuck he wants with me. A few slaps is nothing, really.”

Hannibal went rigid, a burning hot statue beneath Matthew’s hands, not even breathing. Matthew frowned and tipped his head back, neck feeling like jelly, trying to clear his mind. Hannibal’s face was blank and that was much more alarming to Matthew than his previous outward anger. This blank facade always heralded more danger than even the fiercest snarl. 

Matthew’s concerns were validated when a moment later he found himself spun and shoved hard against the wall, Hannibal’s unforgiving hand still at his nape. It hurt and Matthew whined, trying to fight the hold, twisting, hands trying to push Hannibal away. Hannibal didn’t relent, pressing in close behind him and growling. 

“Be still, omega.”

It was impossible to win with as high as Matthew felt from Hannibal’s previous affection, his omega purring even now at the abrupt show of dominance. It should be frightening, the power Hannibal had over him, how weak he felt in his arms but Matthew found no fear within himself. Hannibal could do anything to Matthew and he would beg for more, wanting nothing but to please his alpha. 

Matthew went still and Hannibal rumbled behind him, pleased with his quick and utter submission. Matthew whined again in response, beyond speaking and breathed deeply, trying to hold as still as possible as Hannibal reached for the collar of his shirt. He pulled hard on it, ripping the rough material with a loud, ragged sound and Matthew shivered as the cold air rushed over the exposed skin of his neck and shoulder. Matthew thought he heard the alpha sigh in relief. 

“He gave you no mating bite, beloved. You don’t belong to Chilton, do you understand? You belong to me. No matter what the state says, no matter what name is on your personal paperwork. _You. Are. Mine_.” 

His scent gland ached, swollen and inflammed and Matthew gave a low shout, eyes rolling back in his head as Hannibal licked over it. Matthew remembered their position, remembered the guards stationed right outside the doors next to them and bit his lip to stay quiet, tasting blood. Hannibal licked over the gland again, tongue flat, the sensation unbearably hot against his already flushed skin. He flailed, body going taut as he arched back, desperate to feel if Hannibal was as physically affected as he was. Matthew could feel a thin line of slick running down his leg, soaking his scrubs. He wanted, he _needed_…

Hannibal chuckled darkly and let him feel, bucking his hips forward, the hard line of his arousal fitting easily into the cleft of Matthew’s ass. Instead of calming him, it made Matthew grow wild and he fought the hold on his nape with a vicious, single minded intent. He could feel Hannibal’s smile against his shoulder and the alpha opened his mouth wide and bit, long canines pressing delicious bruises into the delicate omegan flesh beneath. 

Matthew gasped, head swimming with a potent cocktail of mating chemicals and he strained in Hannibal’s hold, trying to inch those teeth closer to his scent gland, desperate to feel them enter it, to _claim_. Matthew was so hard, so wet, caught tight in Hannibal’s arms. All of his fighting was for naught, Hannibal was too strong, his arms around him bands of steel that wouldn’t be shrugged off. And he wouldn't give Matthew what he needed, wouldn’t sink his teeth deep, mark him forever. 

He went limp again in Hannibal’s arms and the alpha hummed, pleased. He let Hannibal maneuver him like a doll, pulling Matthew further into his arms and resting his head on Hannibal’s shoulder. Hannibal’s hand held his hip with a bruising grip, the hand on Matthew’s nape sliding around to cup his vulnerable throat. Matthew didn’t react, sighing in contentment as Hannibal’s wide, warm palm slid up under his torn scrub top, cupping and caressing every inch of skin he could reach. 

Matthew stared at the brightly lit ceiling, unseeing, every part of his body attuned to Hannibal’s wandering hand. He was panting still, gasping with each breath and welcoming the grounding touch to his throat, Hannibal’s long fingers wrapping possessively around his airway, his major arteries. It wouldn’t take much for Hannibal to kill him like this, a steady, competent flick of the alpha’s wrist and those strong fingers could rip out his throat, tear through his skin and muscle like tissue paper. And Matthew would smile as he bled out, content in Hannibal's embrace. 

But Hannibal held him gently, fingers tightening more and more as his other hand undid the ties to Matthew’s pants, slipping down to take his cock in hand. He was rutting his own, larger cock between the globes of Matthew’s ass, pressed so close that the omega could feel when it pulsed, could feel the knot swelling. His own hands, forgotten in the overwhelming haze of arousal, were limp at his sides. He scrambled with numb fingers and pushed down his pants over his ass, biting his lip harder when Hannibal growled loudly, bucking forward again to press skin to skin. 

Hannibal rolled his hips, sensuous and teasing, setting Matthew to squirming again, trying to angle his hips to take Hannibal’s cock inside his clenching hole. But Hannibal pulled the line of his body away, making Matthew cry out in distress at the sudden loss of heat and support. Hannibal shushed him, pressing a lingering kiss to his now sore scent gland and pumped Matthew’s leaking cock, distracting him. 

Weak, confused, Matthew slumped forward, catching himself on the cold tile wall with his elbows, head bowing towards the floor. It offered him a wonderful view of Hannibal’s hand on his cock, graceful fingers tight and sure as he fisted the aching flesh. Matthew rocked forward into the sensation even as he cried out for more. 

“Please, Hannibal. Alpha, alpha, knot me, please.”

“Shh, beloved. Not now. I’m too close to rut to have you here. I would lose myself and kill anyone who tried to take you from me.”

Matthew blinked and laughed, a rush of relief making his knees weak when he realized it wasn’t an outright rejection. 

“Sounds like a good time to me-Ah!”

How could Hannibal be so logical when Matthew felt ready to explode into a thousand pieces at any moment? The hand on his neck went slack, running over his shoulder and down his clothed back, unerringly making its way down. Matthew’s breath caught as one finger entered him without hesitation, his slick making the in and out slide nothing but pleasurable friction. 

“Yes, yes, please, anything, alpha. Anything for you.”

Hannibal gave a shaky laugh, making the warm affection in Matthew’s breast grow. He added another finger and knelt on the ground, setting his dexterous tongue to work again. He licked the slick from the back of Matthew’s thighs, long, flat movements from mid thigh up to his hole, hot breath fanning as he sighed after each complete circuit, clearing enjoying the taste and the undeniable pleasure it brought Matthew. 

“Mylimasis, you should not make such promises lightly. If you leave me to choose anything, I will surely take your everything.” 

Before Matthew could respond, mind whirling at Hannibal’s deeply affected voice, the alpha removed his hand from Matthew’s cock and gripped his hip, fingernail digging roughly, sure to leave crescent shaped marks on him for days to come. Matthew welcomed it, he wanted his body to be covered in Hannibal’s marks. He wanted the evidence of their stolen encounter to last for days, weeks, forever. 

Then he felt Hannibal’s tongue gently lapping at his hole, a single finger offering the smallest modicum of relief, thrusting slowly, teasing. Matthew could do nothing but tremble and moan, letting the cold wall support his weak body as Hannibal pleasured him. The louder he became, the rougher Hannibal was, adding fingers and growling with a low, vicious sounding timbre as he sucked and licked Matthew until he felt like his hole was gaping open, desperate to take more of his alpha. 

Matthew didn’t notice the absence of Hannibal’s hand on his hip until he heard the tell tale sounds of wet fisting. He craned his head around as far as he could to see Hannibal and the sight of such a dangerous, cunning alpha on his knees, pleasuring himself while he took Matthew apart made the omega feel faint. He wanted Hannibal’s cock inside him with such a fervent agony that it shocked him. He had never felt such a need for an alpha, to be owned and pleasured, kept and protected. But even more alarming was that he wanted to do the same for Hannibal, wanted to protect, comfort and provide for this keen eyed, treacherous man. 

His orgasm was a surprise, ripping through him as he rode Hannibal’s fingers, hips working to chase the tease of the alpha’s hot tongue. His nerves lit up with a pleasure never felt before, firing and overwhelming his brain as he hoarsely screamed his release. Hannibal worked him through it, groaning and placing savage bites to the sensitive skin of his ass. Matthew let out a breathy chuckle as he collapsed forward, already anticipating the ache sitting would cause him in the next few days. And he hadn’t even taken the alpha’s huge knot. 

Hannibal stood and turned him with a soft, kind touch, smoothing his hands gently over every inch of skin that he handled. Matthew’s body relaxed under his care and he watched with half lidded eyes as Hannibal gathered his own release and began rubbing it into the flushed skin of Matthew’s chest, his back, his stomach. Hannibal flared his nostrils, scenting deeply to take in the mix of their scents, his small smile more than smug. Matthew laughed at him, feeling languid and happy for the first time in weeks, maybe years. Maybe he had never felt this fucking happy. 

“Is this really necessary?”

He reached down to tuck Hannibal’s half limp cock into the alpha’s overalls, running his fingers over the flaccid knot, his hole clenching to imagine it swollen and locked inside him. Hannibal hummed and kept working his come into Matthew’s skin. 

“Yes.”

Matthew couldn’t help his dimpled grin, chest warm at the possessive gleam in Hannibal’s alpha red eyes. Hannibal wanted him, wanted, maybe, to keep him. It was an intoxicating thought. 

“Marking your territory, alpha? Gotta show the world what’s yours?”

Hannibal graced him with an indulgent half grin, full lips quirking to the side and Matthew was helpless to resist, leaning forward to kiss him. It was a lazy kiss, deep enough to matter but chaste enough to end quickly. Hannibal moved those lips from Matthew’s lips to his cheek, over his closed eyes and his forehead. 

The tenderness, more than even their earlier passion, was cutting and a foreign feeling pierced up under his rib cage before pulling mercilessly. It felt a lot like a hook, embedded in his heart, impossible to dig out, guaranteed to do more damage being removed immediately than if it was left to one day fester and rot. Matthew didn’t fight the feeling, relaxing against Hannibal, content for now. 

“Not the world, mylimasis. You are mine, little one, not his. Never his.”

He sealed the promise with a chaste kiss. Matthew raised an incredulous eyebrow, reluctantly charmed by Hannibal’s obsession with showing up Chilton. It was no competition for Matthew between the two alphas.

“Was that just to prove a point to Chilton? I think I’m offended.”

Hannibal’s hands tightened on Matthew’s hips and his eyes narrowed, growing dark. 

“No, that was for you, only you. A promise, if you will. I want you, Matthew and an unworthy alpha like Chilton can’t have you.”

Matthew shook his head, slightly exasperated now. 

“Chilton doesn’t want me, Hannibal, not really. What he wants is you and I’m just a stepping stone, a pawn for him to get at you. Turn off your alpha brain for a second and think about it.”

Hannibal tilted his head and conceded the point with obvious reluctance, repressing a pleased grin. Matthew chased it with his lips, pressing soft kisses to that grin, a wave of jealous possession rising sharply within him, an echo to Hannibal’s own. He wished desperately for their pack bond to be whole, so that he could feel the feedback loop of _mine, mine, mine_ between them. Why had Hannibal not given him a mating bite? What was he waiting for...what was he hiding? He pushed those doubts away to reassure his alpha. Who was still looking hesitant at the mention of Chilton. 

“But just like he can’t have me, he can’t have you either. He wishes to _See you_, to _Know_ you.” 

Matthew’s voice was becoming a snarl, teeth bared with agitation. The thought of Chilton possessing Hannibal in any way was repulsive. He gripped at Hannibal’s biceps, pulling him closer. 

“Only _I_ can See you, only your pack.”

He allowed his hands to rub the tense muscles beneath Hannibal’s shirt and the alpha shuddered at the attention, pressing into the touch. Matthew wondered just how touch starved Hannibal was in here or even before being incarcerated. Hannibal’s voice was soft, a little awed, the red of his eyes bleeding away, leaving a vulnerability that should be disconcerting. But Matthew loved it, was honored to see this side of Hannibal, a man so powerful looking unsure and hopeful. 

“You See me?”

Matthew smiled fondly, wishing the frayed pack bond between them could regrow to prove his devotion to Hannibal. They would share a limited amount of their emotions through a bond, a harmony that was missing now. Only a mating bite would connect them, would take the frayed edges and heal them forever. Creating an unbreakable connection that would kill them if they were ever separated, by circumstance or death. He was so fucked. Hannibal was impossible to resist and he was tired of trying. 

“I’ve been in your den, your workshop. Has even Will descended so far into your territory?”

The fragile hope in Hannibal’s eyes was wounding and Matthew swallowed, chest squeezing. He felt a flash of kinship, a feeling that was becoming more and more common the longer he spent with Hannibal. Had Hannibal been as lonely as Matthew? Just waiting for a worthy mate to come along and accept every part of him; Hannibal’s cannibalistic, murderous leanings and Matthew’s violent, deadly heat rage? What a pair they made. 

Would Will ever have a place in their lives? A missing puzzle piece come home to make their pack whole? Could Will resist the call of their pack any better than Matthew? That was to say; not at all. Matthew drew his hands slowly over Hannibal’s shoulders and down his back, a caress, a comfort. 

“I’ve seen you stage your tableaus...and I know you consume your kills. Shh, it’s okay. I have such a good alpha, a good provider. How’d I get so lucky?”

Hannibal went rigid in Matthew’s arms before he melted into the touch, going limp and pressing Matthew back against the wall with a huff. Matthew laughed, eyes wet in relief and he held Hannibal tighter. Hannibal nuzzled his scent gland, his own scent sweetening and surrounding them pleasantly. Matthew pressed a kiss to Hannibal’s temple before he braced himself, taking a large inhale. 

“I want to be yours Hannibal and I want you to be mine. I just need one thing...I need for there to be no secrets between us. I can’t have faith and trust in this if I’m constantly on edge, wondering if I made a mistake jumping headfirst into this. I’ve been hurt before by you, by Will.”

Hannibal leaned back, his eyes earnest and took Matthew's face in his hands. 

“Of course, little one. I will never betray you. My secrets are yours.” 

Matthew smiled and pushed his face into his alpha’s comforting hands, a low purr starting in his chest. For the moment he allowed himself to forget his worries and suspicions and let himself trust in Hannibal. Not even a small flash of something unreadable, there and gone again on Hannibal’s face could bring him down at that moment. Something that looked, alarmingly, a lot like guilt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't stop thinking about "If you leave me to choose anything, I will surely take your everything.”   
Oof, Hannibal you smooth bastard.


	12. A Long Awaited Reunion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all your kudos and comments! I've been really inspired by you recently and dedicated to giving you more! <3

Matthew felt so high after leaving his alpha, felt so safe, wanted and protected on his drive home that seeing Will waiting for him on his rickety porch was a punch to the gut. He sat for a moment, staring blindly at the alpha, reeling and dizzy as he crashed his way back into reality. Was this reality? Had this whole roller coaster of a day been nothing but one big dream, a hallucination his brain had produced in a desperate bid to cope with his lonely life? Why the fuck would Will be here? Why now? 

Following the confusion closely was anger. He gripped the steering wheel, white knuckled and fumed while Will stared back at him, sitting so still on the bottom porch step, face impassive. How dare this man? How dare he disappear, leaving Matthew to suffer and then come slinking back? 

The letter in his pocket crumpled as he slammed the car door shut and Matthew palmed it as he stalked up the driveway. Was Hannibal behind this? Once again Matthew was on the outside, desperate to be included. These alpha idiots better start talking plainly or he was going to bring out his favorite serrated knife. Matthew didn’t care how compatible they were to his omega, he was going to start cutting off appendages if this feeling of insecurity dragged out much longer.

Will didn’t rise from his seat and Matthew’s raging instincts were tempered by the gesture, pleased that the perceived threat was standing down; an alpha not his own, one that had severed their bond and disappeared before trespassing near his nest. He loomed over Will for a silent moment, taking the alpha in. He couldn’t resist the temptation to catch his scent, breathing deeply of woodsmoke and pine needles, viciously repressing the ache that opened in his heart. 

Will looked good as a free man, so different in the fading sunlight, his previously sallow complexion healthy and pink, his hair longer, face clean shaven. He had gained weight and a bit of a farmer’s tan, his dark blue tee shirt riding up on his biceps to reveal a tantalizing strip of lighter toned skin. He sat curled in upon himself in a bid to look smaller, less threatening, arms resting on his jean clad knees. The alpha didn’t have a coat and Matthew despaired for an instant when he saw Will shiver in response to the cool evening air. 

Despite Will’s body language, his expression was one of determination, his jaw set tight, blue eyes flashing. Like he expected Matthew to attack him with no warning, with claws and teeth and nasty words. It was tempting to act that way, to call upon his simmering violent instincts and chase Will off but the alpha looked so damn pathetic and hopeful.   
And a large part of Matthew still yearned for Will, wanted to curl around him and warm his cold, trembling flesh, take him into his nest and- He suppressed those thoughts quickly, a snarl curling his lips as crossed his arms, feeling vulnerable. He could still feel Hannibal’s marks on him, bruises that ached beautifully, the sticky residue of the alpha’s release still on him. 

The reminder of Hannibal’s soft words and gentle hands calmed his racing heart, steeled his resolve. Hadn’t he hoped to see Will again, for closure if not for reconciliation? He burned to know what Will had to say to him but he was exhausted still, after Chilton’s abuse and Hannibal’s whispered promises. Promises that Matthew was beginning to doubt away from the alpha, especially now, faced with Will. A man that Hannibal admitted to loving above all else, his coming spring or whatever the fuck. 

Another moment of silence and Matthew was edging on exasperation, the adrenaline leaving him drooping.

“Hello, Mister Graham. I’d say it’s nice to see you but…”

Will flinched, eyes flicking down to the ground, jaw clenching tighter. Matthew squeezed the ridge of his nose. What an awkward duck. Where was the fire he had seen inside the BSHCI? A man on a mission of justice, calling in favors and manipulating everyone around him? Matthew had honestly expected Will to go on a crusade against Hannibal after his release. Had Hannibal’s sudden and self inflicted downfall ruined Will’s view of the future? 

Well, no matter. It wasn’t Matthew’s problem. Obviously Will’s own vision didn’t include Matthew as his omega or he wouldn’t have disappeared and let their bond break. The alpha was probably here to apologize and leave again, forever this time. The letter rasped against his skin. He wished he knew the contents. Then maybe he would be better prepared to face Will. 

Matthew sighed. He was so fucking tired. He needed a glass of bourbon and ten hours sleep. 

“I don’t have the energy for this. Not after the day I’ve had with that asshole Chilton and Hannibal-”

At the mention of Hannibal, Will was on his feet, crowding closer to Matthew but not close enough to touch. 

“What did Hannibal do to you?”

Will reached for him but Matthew growled, batting the alpha’s hand away. Hurt flashed over Will’s face before his expression shuttered and he lowered his hand, fist clenched at his side. Will didn’t step back though, standing close and running his gaze over every inch of Matthew, taking him in with an almost manic look in his eyes. The moment the alpha noticed Matthew's red cheek, he snarled and raised his hand, too fast for Matthew to react. 

“_He hit you_.” 

The touch of Will’s hand on his cheek, a gentle caress, mirrored Hannibal’s own from earlier. Same words, same lowly enraged tone and Matthew startled, stepping back from it, heart pounding, head spinning. Will smelled so wonderful, protective and safe even though he wasn’t. He scoffed, trying to hide how shaken he was. 

“You think Hannibal did this? He’s never hurt me, not even when I was getting ready to gut him.”

Will’s shoulders relaxed and he half smiled, blue eyes sparkling. Matthew’s breath caught at seeing him smile, so different from before. There was no careful distance in Will’s eyes, no caution in his scent. He was here, really _looking_ at Matthew, really _seeing_ the omega before him. No barriers between them. It sent a tidal wave of longing through Matthew, starting in his breast and raging out to his numb extremities. He hadn’t realized how much Will had kept hidden from him until it was gone. Still, he dared not hope. Not yet. 

“You’re right, I just...it drives me insane, the thought of someone hurting you. Touching you for any reason, really.”

“That’s fucking rich. No one can hurt me but you?”

Will swallowed thickly, his face pale and strained. He was so fucking beautiful, even when he suffered. He powered on though, not giving up in the face of Matthew’s forced hostility. He didn’t want to fight with Will but the frayed and severed pack bond was an open wound between them. And unlike Hannibal, Will hadn’t made any obvious efforts to repair it. 

“No, I mean, yes. Wait, I-”

Will took a deep breath and rubbed his eyes with a heavy hand. Matthew bit his lip hard, forcing himself not to reach for Will’s violently trembling fingers. He had never seen Will looking so raw and emotional, not even at the lowest point in his life, sentenced to life for murder. The alpha looked back up at Matthew, hand falling to swing limply at his side. He looked awkward, desperate, his voice hoarse as he spoke through clenched teeth. 

“I’m sorry I hurt you, Matthew. I came to explain why and...I swear to you, I never want to hurt you again. But, please, tell me who hit you. I need to know.” 

Matthew crossed his arms again and shrugged, looking to the side, watching the woods surrounding his house with unseeing eyes. 

“Chilton slapped me, twice. He didn’t hold back either, the bastard.”

He touched his aching cheek himself, wondering if it would be a bruise tomorrow, a constant reminder of how helpless he had been in that situation; one omega against three alphas. His throat closed and tears came to his eyes. It wasn’t often that Matthew wished for the enhanced instincts his heat rage gave him outside of his heats but he wished he had been able to destroy Chilton and his lackeys. He burned to see fear in the alpha’s eyes, watch the worthless life drain from them, cover himself in Chilton’s blood and dig out the fucker’s liver with clawed hands. 

Will made a wounded sound and tried to step close again. Matthew ducked around him though, trading places to reach some kind of high ground, backing away from Will to ascend the first porch step. Will let him escape, eyes dark and angry, posture rigid. 

“He’ll fucking pay for it, Matthew. I promise you that.” 

Matthew laughed bitterly. 

“You look ready to march over there and do it yourself. Gonna finally get your hands dirty? You sure you don’t have another bright eyed omega sitting around ready to leap when you say jump? Gonna dump that one in the trash too, when they get boring?”

Will stepped closer, eyes pinched. The wind blew between them, making the alpha’s curls dance and gooseflesh spread on his bare arms. Matthew pulled his jacket around himself tighter at the sight. How long had Will been waiting for him, sitting in the cold? There was no car in his driveway. How far had Will walked to reach him?

“Matthew, that’s not-”

The change in their positions put Will down wind and Matthew had a split second to panic before Will was upon him, growling and snarling. He stumbled back, arms raised, tripping on the next step up and Will grabbed him roughly, manhandling him off the porch steps to slam his back against the side of the house. Fuck, Will was stronger than he looked, loose clothing hiding compact muscle, his strong hands unyielding as Matthew squirmed and clawed at the alpha’s arms, panic rising. The only scent on him was-

“You smell like Hannibal, omega. Like he…”

Will easily restrained Matthew’s wrists in one of his long fingered hands, the other reaching up to take a handful of Matthew’s hair. He pulled, forcing Matthew to expose the long line of his neck and buried his face in the omega’s scent gland, the same one that Hannibal had bruised with his teeth and soothed with his tongue. Matthew should be scared, he should be fighting, the shadow feel of Chilton’s hand in his hair lurking in the back of his mind. But he was exhilarated, whining high and long as Will scented him, running his nose over his scent gland and pressing his firm lips to the tender flesh. 

It was a heady feeling, making him dizzy with the comfort of it and the desire he felt for Will to touch more of his body, his blood on fire in his veins, his clenching hole beginning to slick. Will pressed closer and Matthew realized the alpha was just as affected, his hard cock pressing into the divot of Matthew’s hip. 

He thrust forward at the feel of it, his own cock meeting Will’s abdomen with a delicious pressure that made him start to pant, gasping breaths stuttering in his chest. His omega responded just as violently to Will as it did to Hannibal, making him want to fall to his knees and beg the alpha to take him, bite him, _claim_ him.   
Will leaned back, eyes red and teeth exposed in a snarl. He didn’t look angry, he looked aroused...covetous. 

“He marked you, _fucked_ you. I can smell his come all over you, the possessive bastard. Fuck, fuck, Matthew, baby.”

Will leaned forward, eyes hooded and released Matthew’s wrists to grasp his hips, fingers pressing over the bruises Hannibal had left, lips seeking his. Startled, Matthew pushed with all the strength his trembling body possessed, feeling the ghost of Will’s lips on his, the alpha’s hot breath like a brand against his face. 

Not expecting the resistance, Will stumbled back a few feet, face confused and surprised, a little hurt at the rejection. Matthew wrapped his arms around himself protectively, one hand clamped over his scent gland, trying to regain control of his fast breathing. 

“No, no, Will. You don’t get to do that. Why the fuck are you here?” 

Will’s eyes flashed darkly, as if he were weighing the consequences of pushing Matthew further but after a tense moment he sighed, shoulders slumping. He looked so small and sad that Matthew felt a flash of self loathing at being the cause of the alpha’s distress. 

“Like I said, I wanted to see you, apologize for...this goddamn shit storm.”

He gave a bitter smile, blue eyes dimmed. He sighed as if to brace himself and Matthew swallowed, silent but impatient. 

“It wasn’t my plan to leave after I was exonerated and released.”

He glanced at Matthew from the corner of his eye, looking hesitant. 

“I was going to find you, actually. You just...disappeared after attacking Hannibal. I had this need to find you again, to see if you were safe, if Hannibal had hurt you. It was all over the news and there was so much speculation and very little facts known.”

His fists clenched at his sides, jaw tensing as he ground his teeth. 

“I tried to contact Jack, ah Crawford, but he was fielding my calls to Alana. She was less than transparent about what was happening with you or with Hannibal. And then Abigail came to me.”

He paused and ran a hand through his hair, his expression swinging from joy to terror and back again. He looked at Matthew almost worshipfully, eyes shining with tears. 

“She said you took care of her, got her away from the prison Hannibal had imposed upon her. Supported her, loved her. She said…,” he let out a laugh that sounded like a sob, “she said you were my omega, that you had scent bonded to me the day we met. That she loved you, that you were pack, no matter if I was your alpha or not.”

Matthew swallowed thickly, so overcome with love for his Abigail that he felt like he was going to scream it out to the world. He shook his head and lowered the hand around his neck to press his palm over his wildly beating heart. 

“Abs, is she safe? I told her to go to- ah, to leave the country. I had a safe house for her and the cats, Harley.” 

Will took a step forward with a nod, face earnest. 

“She’s safe, Matthew. I have her, she’s safe.”

At Will’s low, soothing words, Matthew slumped back against the side of the house, taking a deep, relieved breath. Will looked to the side with an almost unnoticeable fidget. Matthew narrowed his eyes. 

“What is it?”

Will stroked his clean shaven chin and grimaced. 

“The others, the animals, we had to...rehome them. It was too dangerous to keep them, we had to keep moving but I put them with people I trusted-”

Matthew held up a hand, the flash of grief that consumed him felt like an arrow to the breast. His little family, so painstakingly nurtured, gone. He shook it off though. Nothing was more important than Abigail’s safety and if what Will said was true, he had looked after her when Matthew couldn’t. 

“So what, you dropped everything for Abigail?”

“Yes, Matt, that’s what I’m saying. Also Jack contacted me a week after I got out.”

Will paused as if to gather himself and Matthew pushed off the wall to step closer. He was drawn to Will even with the rift between them, just like Hannibal. Will tipped his head back and squeezed his eyes shut, gritting his teeth. 

“He returned my one hundred calls to tell me that you were dead. That Hannibal had killed you when you attacked him and that there was no hope for Hannibal, that he would die in the BSHCI.”

Will tipped his head back down, pinning Matthew with a desolate look, as if the mere thought of losing Matthew or Hannibal was unbearable. Closer now, Matthew could smell the sour tinge to his scent, a sadness so deep that it choked Matthew. He swallowed against rising bile and felt his body respond, pumping out soothing omega pheromones for Will. The alpha’s breath hitched and he took an unsteady step forward, nostrils flaring, iris’ bleeding red. 

“I disappeared with Abigail, kept her away from Jack and anyone else. I kept our child safe, Matt. She was devastated, inconsolable after losing you but at least I was good for something. I could protect her.” 

_Our child_. Matthew whined at that, a call that Will didn’t ignore. The alpha crowded close and drew Matthew into his arms, releasing a breathy sigh against the omega’s temple. His embrace felt like coming home and for a moment, Matthew relaxed against Will, wishing he could press his face into the alpha’s scent gland. He wanted Will to take him away as well, to block out the world and fill it with only pack for the rest of their lives. Will’s voice was a pleasant rumble. 

“Omega, my omega.” 

Again, even though it felt like a knife to the gut, Matthew pushed Will away. There was still too much pain in his heart to forgive so easily but after Will’s heartfelt confession, it felt more possible than before. He needed time, he needed to really think about everything that had happened even if wrenching out of Will’s arms was as painful as if his skin were being flayed open. Will gave a pained gasp but let go, giving the omega space to breath without being surrounded by _alpha, my alpha_. 

“No, I can’t do this. Not right now.”

He brushed past Will, ruthlessly suppressing the urge to fall back into his arms and headed for the porch, for his nest. He was so tired, he needed to curl up and just _exist_, give his mind and instincts time to process. Will didn’t back down though, following close at Matthew’s heels, his scent edging on desperation. 

“You can’t ignore this, Matthew. I won’t let you.”

Matthew spun around on the top step of the porch, confusion and exhaustion turning to rage at Will’s dogged persistence. Will stopped on the step below him, regret flashing across his face before it disappeared, his expression settling on stubborn determination. Matthew curled his lip, exposing his sharp canines. He knew his eyes were flashing a bright gold, reflecting his ire. 

“You won’t _let_ me? Fuck off, Will. I’m not your omega, you have no right-” 

Will grabbed his bicep with an iron grip, face dark, forbidding. Matthew swallowed thickly but didn’t fight his grip this time, well aware that Will was wildly swinging between emotions, from loving and hopeful to dangerous and unhinged in an instant. Had the pack bond between Will and Hannibal suffered, severed? Had there ever been a bond connecting the two alphas to begin with, too much suspicion and pain for such a thing to exist? An alpha like Will, sensitive and powerful could lose himself without the anchor a pack could bring, go feral and lash out, have to be locked up or put down. 

Had Will lost his way, even a little sanity when Hannibal had betrayed him, taking his pup before their parental bond could form? The man before Matthew was different, darker, the light in his eyes swinging from manic to tightly controlled. The stranglehold on his inner beast was slipping, growing weaker. Would Hannibal be pleased?

Matthew didn’t feel threatened, he didn’t believe that Will would hurt him physically on purpose. But as much as Will was hurting, Matthew was hurting, too. And at the moment he didn’t feel particularly inclined to coddle the alpha. If Will was determined to have him, he would have to work for it. 

“You didn't give me a chance to have the right to call you mine, Matthew. You kept it from me.”

Matthew didn’t speak for a long moment, feeling heart sore. Will was so beautiful like this, enraged and offended, teeth bared and fingers bruising. The alpha’s face was so doll like, a perfect porcelain mask that if pressed too hard, with too much pressure, would crack and fracture. Matthew brushed two fingertips gently over Will’s cheek, watching the alpha’s eyelashes flutter at the gentle touch. 

“Would it have really mattered at the time? If I had told you, would you have embraced me with open arms and let go of your crusade against Hannibal? If I wouldn’t have gone after him in some stupid bid for your attention, I know you would have done so yourself.”

Matthew pressed his fingers harder, tilting Will’s head up to meet his eyes. 

“You would have killed yourself to take down Hannibal, to make him pay. I’m not saying revenge against him wasn’t deserved but any fight between the two of you only ends in tragedy. Where would your omega have fit into all of that? A protected and precious mate...or just another pawn in your bloody war?”

Will pursed his lips, looking pained and didn’t answer. Matthew forced a fragile smile on his face, feeling like his heart was shattering into pieces. It hurt more than he thought it would, to have such a thing confirmed, that he had never stood a chance against Hannibal. Even Will’s hatred for Hannibal couldn’t be replaced by Matthew’s love and devotion. 

“That’s what I thought.”

He shook his head and stepped back, watching as Will dropped his hold without a fight. He turned his back but stopped when Will’s voice came from behind him, low and urgent. 

“That was then, Matt. It’s different now, I swear to you-”

Matthew laughed bitterly, fighting tears. 

“All I hear are empty platitudes, Will. You haven’t shown me anything to back up that your feelings for me have changed. Do you understand what I need from you?”  
Will looked lost, shaking his head, watching Matthew with narrowed, intense eyes. Every fiber of his being focused on the omega, as if Matthew had the ability to shatter him or make him whole. Every word from Matthew’s lips a gospel from god, Will’s god. It was heady, a power Matthew had never felt before. 

“If you want me, show me. I won’t tell you how to, I’m not sure myself. And if you don’t want me, well, my bond to you and Hannibal has been severed. Only a mating bond will connect us now. You can always ride off into the sunset with him, leave me behind. Just...don’t keep Abigail from me. Please.”

Will’s face went from stoic to shocked to pained. 

“I would never keep Abigail from you, Matt. Never. She wants to speak to you, when it’s safe. I’ll figure out a way, I promise.”

Matthew’s shoulders slumped, a tension he didn’t realize he had been holding leaving him all at once. He still had Abigail. No matter what, he still had her. He nodded over his shoulder, not meeting Will’s gaze before unlocking his front door, eager to put a barrier between them. As he stepped inside, Will called out again. 

“This isn’t over, omega. I’m not leaving you again.”

Despite his doubts, Matthew smirked. 

“Don’t just talk. Prove it, alpha.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hooo, boy! y'all, the end is on the horizon. I'm thinking three or four more chapters.


	13. Courtship and Confrontation

There was a box on Matthew’s porch the next morning, looking innocent and simple with brown paper wrapping and tied with a thick, frayed string. It was halfway between his door and the porch steps and after a few moments of shocked blinking, Matthew noticed the letter sitting on top. He hesitated. 

He was late to work already, spending the previous night tossing and turning, agonizing. In part, Matthew hoped that Will took his words to heart and courted him but another part of him hoped Will would disappear and never contact him again. He wanted to keep being angry at the alpha but Will was making it so hard, showing up, looking so sad and handsome, saying pretty words and making even prettier promises. 

He wanted to wrap Will up in his nest, comfort him, keep him safe from a world that took advantage of him, cut him down. He wanted Will to push through Matthew’s defenses, his bone deep hurt and refuse to leave him ever again. But words were like smoke and once they were said, they easily disappeared. Matthew needed more, he needed tangible proof that Will wanted Matthew, that the alpha wanted to keep him and wouldn’t discard him when things got complicated. 

Matthew stepped forward cautiously and picked up the letter, shoulders relaxing when he recognized Abigail’s bold, cramped handwriting. Instinctively, he brought it to his nose to scent, inhaling deeply. It smelled like Will and Abigail, mate and pup, pine sap and water lilies. Matthew bit his lip on a smile, scooping up the box and clutching the letter close as he stepped back inside his house. 

He could afford to be more than a little late to work. He hadn’t seen Hannibal since their amorous encounter in the showers but this felt important, too. He’d be useless all day if he didn't tend to the box now, distracted with his alpha if he didn’t satisfy his burning curiosity. And hopefully, Hannibal and Matthew would get a few moments alone. He desperately wanted to tell him about Will and Abigail, that they were safe. 

Hannibal seemed more than open to the idea of all of them together as a pack, of sharing Matthew with Will. It wasn’t unheard of for packs to have multiple alphas and one or few omegas. Matthew had never imagined such a family for himself, he had never found one person let alone a whole pack that he connected with, yearned for.  
Matthew had always assumed the omegas in those packs were forced to service all the alphas, abused and in agony all their lives. But...maybe not. He felt the urge to care for more than one alpha and their pups. To Matthew’s surprise, his heart felt more than big enough for two alphas. 

Sitting at his kitchen counter, smelling Abigail and Will so near, he ripped open the letter first. The relief and love that stole over Matthew as he read made him light headed. Abigail was happy with Will, content to be by his side again and determined to see the pack reunited. She spoke as if it was a done deal, that no force on earth could disrupt their chosen path. She had faith that Will would win Matthew over and keep his promises. 

It was a light hearted letter, Abigail telling him about her day to day, how much she missed the cats and Harley. She made no mention of their current location and didn’t call Will by name, referring to him as ‘Alpha 1’ and Hannibal as ‘Alpha 2’. 

The smile slowly melted off Matthew’s face at that, a vice squeezing his chest. Was Abigail being overly cautious or were they being watched? Were they in danger, was Matthew? He would write back, try to bring it up without giving anything away. Abigail was smart, she would know how to respond. 

He sat aside the letter and with a deep, excited breath, picked up the wrapped gift. It wasn’t heavy and when he tilted it back and forth close to his left ear, a few small things rolled together. The string easily unknot when he pulled and the brown paper fell open to reveal a wooden box, sanded smooth and painted a dark, shining blue. 

It had a large clasp on the front; a faded, antique, delicate looking lock shaped like a butterfly. Matthew’s breath caught at how beautiful the box was, how striking the final product looked. He almost didn’t want to touch it without gloves and expose such lovingly rendered craftsmanship to the oils on his fingers. 

But his curiosity won and he worked the lock with gentle hands, slowly opening the lid to reveal it was lined with bunched up white silk and sitting on the silk were four hand whittled figurines. They were sanded down like the box, not painted but stained a dark walnut color.  
It was so beautiful, so personal for a courting gift and Matthew’s hands began to tremble as he reached for the figurines, running the very tips of his fingers over the face of each one as his vision blurred with tears. 

Traditionally, the first courting gift was handmade, the actual contents specific to the alpha’s skill. But in more modern times, most courtship gifts were store bought or courting was skipped altogether. Had Will made these himself? He must have started them shortly after his release to have them ready so soon after vowing to court Matthew. He took them out one by one, they fit into the palm of his hand and he turned each one to take in every inch. 

A wolf, delicately rendered head thrown back to howl at the moon, his fur lifelike and soft looking. 

A snake, curled tight and protective around a clutch of eggs, hissing at a perceived intruder, long fangs ready to strike with deadly venom. It’s scales shimmered in the light when Matthew moved it, mesmerizing. 

A panther, stained a darker ebony color, stalking forward, stance hunched, tense. It stood on his palm, perfectly balanced, eyes trained towards an unseen prey.

And a soaring hawk, wings spread side, feathers ruffled by invisible wind, talons clenched tight, as if ready to dive.  
Matthew let out a wet laugh and clutched the hawk close, knuckles white. There was only one thing left in the box; an embossed card, as small as a business card bearing black, looping words. 

_For my love, my omega, my mate. Our first courting gift. I will remember this day for the rest of our lives. Thank you, Matthew. -Will_

His tears fell, happy ones, relieved ones. Tears so full of love and hope that he couldn’t help but sob aloud. 

*** 

The next few days were a confusing blur of emotional highs and lows. 

The gifts from Will didn’t stop. Every morning and evening there would be something waiting for Matthew, left on his porch in plain view. Nothing so intricate as the carved animals but pleasant nonetheless; small hand picked flowers, tied with a different colored ribbon each time, hand made snacks that reminded Matthew more of Abigail than Will.  
And once, much to his amusement, a chunk of stone that looked like quartz with a smattering of dark red mineral that might have been garnet. The effect was gorgeous and he kept the stone on his bedside table, falling asleep at night staring at it like a lovesick fool. 

As for Hannibal, they never did get those few moments alone. Chilton seemed to pull him away from his duties at every turn, making him sit for silent ‘psychiatry sessions’ where they ignored each other or sending him on time wasting errands. There was a guard with Matthew at all times on his shift, the same ones that had been present for his humiliating encounter with Chilton. 

There was no escape from prying eyes and all of their interactions were forced to be distantly polite. It made him want to start crawling up the walls with the way it fed his doubt. The light of warm affection that he had grown used to in Hannibal’s face was extinguished. Was it because of their constant audience? Or had Hannibal come to regret their sensual embrace and the promises that had followed? 

Matthew hated how needy he felt. He had always prided himself on being an uncaring, independent omega, sneering at the fumbling, grasping omegas he saw around him. But he was one of them now, reaching for his alpha with a desperate need to be held, to be reassured. Maybe it was the already frayed scent bond between them, making his omega especially sensitive and vulnerable. 

Or maybe Matthew would always feel like this with Hannibal, longing to always be in his arms, his dulcet tones making the omega shiver at the dark promises in his whispered words. The more Matthew thought about it, the more he didn’t give a shit how shameless Hannibal made him feel. Matthew felt good like this, his clawing instincts felt _right_. Hannibal made him feel more omegan in one amorous encounter than Matthew had felt his entire life. It felt a lot like finally coming home. 

And it was killing him inside a little every day that he had to endure this horrible distance. Would this doubt and fear ever go away when it came to Will and Hannibal? Would there ever be a time when they were at peace, reunited, a strong pack? 

These thoughts and more haunted him as he tried to sleep, bedroom lamp on, casting a yellow glow over the quartz rock beside him. He slept with it now in his bed, running his fingers meditatively over the rough divets in its surface until his eyes grew too heavy and his mind stopped whirling quite so fast. 

But the relief of sleep refused him that night as darker thoughts pervaded his consciousness. Thoughts of betrayal, lies, abandonment. It seemed a risk still. After all, it had already happened to him once by both Will and Hannibal. It was so hard to banish his anxieties when he lay alone in his nest, only the faintest scent of Will surrounding him. A lingering scent from Will’s gifts? Or was it Matthew’s imagination? 

He shook off that thought. He must be imagining the smell of pine sap and woodsmoke, his omega conjuring it out of pathetic loneliness. Matthew sighed, frustrated and turned on his other side, away from the rock, to look out his darkened window. A few moths hit the screen but he could make out nothing else beyond that. It was late, too late for Matthew to be so maudlin. 

But he couldn’t shake off his suspicions. Will and Hannibal seemed so unbothered by their circumstances. Will was in hiding with Abigail, running from the eyes of the FBI and the press. Why wasn’t he more eager to disappear altogether? Why not ask Matthew to follow him to another place, even out of the country. He would, if Will asked. Will could court him anywhere, they didn’t have to stay in Maryland. 

Was it Hannibal? He also seemed unperturbed by his situation, locked away in a mental hospital, kept away from his omega. They couldn’t even properly court, not that Hannibal had even offered. Which stung, honestly. 

He sighed again, this time more dramatically and rolled onto his stomach to bury his whirling head under the pillows. They were planning something. They had to be. But the real question was, were they doing so together or independently? And why had they not confided in Matthew? Did they not trust him? Were they trying to protect him? Or worst of all, were they planning on using him and then leaving him behind when the time came to flee. There was no way to know…

With a low gasp, Matthew wrenched around and sat up. 

“Fuck, shit! I’m so fucking stupid.”

_The letter. The goddamn letter_. The one he had _purloined_ from Hannibal’s cell, the one with Will’s fucking handwriting on it. Was it an old letter? No, no, he remembered the date. Will had written it well after Hannibal had been imprisoned. Maybe it hadn’t even been written for Hannibal. He had to find it. 

His exit from his nest was less than graceful and he continued to curse under his breath as he paced the floor, trying to recall where he had put the letter. It had been in a scrub pocket-there! In the bottom of his hamper, still in his scrubs. He pulled it out, feeling as if he had been set on fire, his blood full of anticipation and adrenaline. 

Still, for a moment, he hesitated, almost reluctant to open it, tracing Will’s looping cursive with trembling fingers. This felt monumental, a moment that he could never take back. If he opened this letter, if he read the words not meant for his eyes, he couldn’t take them back. He couldn’t unread it. Would he be destroyed utterly? Did he care, as long as he finally knew the truth?

He opened the letter, crumpled now from living in his pocket for so long and smoothed it out, settling back into his nest. It was addressed to Hannibal, the black ink bearing an incriminating _‘To My Hannibal’_, making Matthew’s heart clench. How had this gotten to Hannibal? Did Hannibal or Will have other contacts within the BSHCI, other little fools ready to roll over for them? 

Matthew took a deep breath and tried to relax. He was getting ahead of himself. So what if Hannibal and Will were in contact with each other? It didn’t necessarily mean that they were keeping something horrible from Matthew. 

As he read on though, the little spark of hope in his breast began to die and all the doubt and suspicion he had been nursing the past week, the past month flooded his mind. It was clearly a love letter, the fond tone of Will’s writing beautiful to behold. He called Hannibal ‘_my love_’ and professed his yearning to meet again. How had they come together to forgive each other? How had Will let go of his hatred, his betrayal so fast? 

There was so much Matthew didn’t know and he was beginning to dread the reason why. Why hadn’t Hannibal mentioned his reconciliation with Will when they had their encounter, when Matthew had expressed his doubts about a unified pack? Bitterly, Matthew realized that Abigail probably knew much more than he did. He felt like an outsider all over again. It made him sick. 

And there, ‘_little one_’ near the end of the letter. Hannibal called him that, had Will adopted it? He leaned closer to the bedside lamp, blinking away his panicked tears to see. 

‘..._our little one. I look forward to meeting him with the recently revealed knowledge in mind. It’s a shame I didn’t know before, it would have made my plans much easier if I had been able to trust him. Lucky for you, I was cautious. If it had been me who cornered you, you would not be alive to write me these letters. Lucky for me, too, I suppose.  
You were right, my love. His scent is divine, unmistakable petrichor with an underlying earthy smell; moss? grass? Either way, it’s lovely. His security is abysmal and it took no skill at all to make my way inside his little nest. You should see it, Hannibal. So empty, not a real home at all-...pathetic, really...foolish...’_

His tears obscured the letter again but he dropped it, feeling nauseous. He felt a chill as he processed Will’s words...the alpha had been in his home? With growing dread, Matthew leaned down to scent his nest, pulling back the covers, deeply smelling each one, hunting for that small hint of Will’s scent he had noticed earlier. He had thought it his imagination but now...yes, there, on his spare pillow. The unmistakable scent of Will, subtle, as if Will had delicately fingered the material. Easily missed but still able to sink into Matthew’s subconscious as he slept. 

He followed the smell, dropping to his knees and pulling out his extra nesting materials from underneath the bed. These smelled much stronger of the alpha, as if Will had rubbed the scent gland on his wrist against them. Matthew shivered, appalled and aroused. Had Will scented just his nest or had he left scent markers everywhere in Matthew’s home? Barely there but enough to sink it’s claws into Matthew’s instincts. Was this the reason for his sudden bout of insomnia, the scent of a potential alpha mate so close yet so far away driving his omega crazy? 

It was such an insidious, calculating thing to do that Matthew was reluctantly impressed. Until he remembered the damning words in the letter, two words beating a painful tattoo against his exposed heart, _pathetic, foolish, pathetic, foolish_. 

Matthew felt flushed as he followed the scent trail to his hall closet, remembering with dread what lay inside; Chilton’s nesting gifts. He had shoved them into the back of the closet, too disturbed by the symbolism to actually attempt to use them. Nesting materials gifted by an alpha was a bold statement of intent, one that Matthew had hurried to disabuse the asshole of. Thankfully, no more gifts had followed but he had forgotten to get rid of them. 

The overwhelming smell of angry, territorial alpha wafted over him as he opened the door, making his knees weak. He stumbled forward, dropping into a crouch and reached a shaky hand to pull out the blankets. Will’s anger made the pine sap of his scent burn into an acrid fire. It made the back of Matthew’s throat sore as he inhaled, coughing and choking. 

It smelled like Will had violently rubbed every inch of the blankets against his primary scent gland. His neck would have been rubbed raw and red by the end of it. How had the scent not caught Matthew’s notice? When had Will been in his house? The letter was dated two weeks ago, long before Will had shown up on Matthew’s porch. 

Matthew groaned as he sat back, dragging the blanket into his lap, his omega refusing to let go. He was livid, confused, dizzy, aroused, hot, damn it was so hot. Sweat began to bead at his temples and the back of his neck and he dabbed at it with the blanket, shivering. How many times had Will been in his nest? Had he been watching Matthew since his release from the hospital? Why wait to approach him? 

It was such a primal thing for an alpha to do and Matthew felt something dark and feral rise within him in response. He wanted to hunt Will down and demand answers but he had no idea how to contact him. 

But he did know where to find Hannibal. He had to know the truth before he let them any closer. No more hiding, no more keeping Matthew at arms length. It ended now, tonight. 

*** 

It was three o’clock in the morning when he reached the BSHCI. He parked close to the back entrance, next to the electrified fence, in a blindspot for the security cameras. Chilton should be home but he didn’t want him alerted to Matthew’s off shift presence if such a rule existed. He was still sweating and even the cool autumn night air did little to comfort his overheated body. The fence gate and the door to the facility accepted his code and he slipped through the hospital unseen, no security check to stop him making his way to Hannibal’s cell. 

Hannibal was on his bed, facing the wall when Matthew came to his cell, breathing deep and even. For a second time and with a petty glee, Matthew disconnected the camera from the network, grinning into the lens as the red light faded. It served the bastard right for not upgrading to a model less prone to sabotage. Matthew didn’t care about potential punishment, he needed to confront Hannibal now, before he lost his fucking mind with stress and anxiety, before he gave his heart away completely. 

The noise alerted Hannibal and he sat up swiftly, eyes predatory for an instant before he recognized Matthew. His face softened and he gave the omega a fond, crooked smile, standing gracefully to cross to the barrier. The faintest scent of Hannibal reached Matthew and he grew dizzy, shaking his head and stepping back. 

“Mylimasis? Are you unwell?”

The sound of Hannibal’s sleep rough voice made him shiver and a horrible clarity came over Matthew. The sweating, the arousal, the dizziness; he was fast approaching heat. Will’s scent had put him into heat, again. Fucking damn it, why was this happening now, when he needed a clear mind, not one warped by his desperate hormones. He had to make this quick, had to get an honest answer from Hannibal and keep his distance. 

He would not go into heat in the hospital, who knew if Chilton or someone else would try to take advantage of his perceived ‘weakened’ state. He knew he would cut a swath of blood and terror through the building if anyone stepped between him and his alpha. And he wasn’t going to get fucked by Hannibal with an audience or without knowing his true intentions. The BSHCI was the absolute worst place to go into heat and he had waltzed right in like a fucking idiot. 

Matthew didn’t step up to the glass, well aware that Hannibal, with his incredible sense of smell, would know immediately what ailed him. Shaking off the dizziness, taking deep breaths of sanitized air, he spoke as calmly as he could, a subvocal growl in his voice. 

“Yes, Hannibal, I am unwell. In fact, I’m fucking pissed.”

Hannibal tilted his head to the side, face smoothing into an irritating blankness. Matthew clenched his fist, digging his nails into his palm. It was impossible to read Hannibal without his scent but he couldn’t step forward, wouldn’t give Hannibal a reason to carelessly wave away his questions. Instead, he pulled out the crumpled letter, smoothing it out before holding it up. Even from six feet away, Matthew knew Will’s handwriting was clear. 

A flash of recognition and then surprise passed over Hannibal’s face before it was gone, making triumph sing through Matthew’s veins. It was rare to catch Hannibal off guard and Matthew seemed to have a real knack for it. It was a heady victory but Matthew pushed the smug pride aside. 

“I...see. You _stole_ from _me_ and have the audacity to be angry? I am very disappointed-”

Matthew threw the letter on the floor, resisting the childish urge to stomp on it. Hannibal paused and pursed his lips, a bright anger flashing in his eyes. 

“Oh, no, no, no, alpha of mine. What’s yours is mine, hmm?”

Hannibal sneered at that, one canine on display. 

“Not quite, my dear. I am still entitled to my privacy.”

Silently, Matthew agreed and guilt followed, settling low in his gut, making his mouth go dry. He swallowed roughly, his omega restless at having displeased his alpha so close to heat. His instincts cried for Matthew to stop, to show his neck, submit, _make alpha happy, let him take care of me_. He shook his head again, growling louder in frustration. 

“Stop, just stop, Hannibal. I wouldn’t have to resort to stealing from you if you told me the fucking truth. You gave me reason to doubt and I acted accordingly to protect myself. You can’t blame this on me.”

He paced away and back again, running an agitated hand through his hair. Hannibal watched silently, his perfectly still body tense. He was feeling more and more flushed the longer he stayed. After a long moment, the tension left Hannibal’s body and he sighed, sounding tired and resigned. 

“What exactly did you find so repulsive in Will’s letter to me? Surely this is a misunderstanding. You do not seem to be thinking rationally, darling. Talk to me.”

Matthew gave a bitter laugh, hoping the alpha was right, that Hannibal could explain away keeping him in the dark. He desperately wanted him to prove that this all wasn't some kind of elaborate ploy. But how could he as things were? Could Matthew really trust this, them, Will and Hannibal? 

“You’ve been keeping things from me, Hannibal. And not little things, big fucking things. You never mentioned that you and Will had reconciled or that you were in contact. I mean, how the fuck did you get these letters?” 

Hannibal hesitated but when Matthew growled at him, he relented, clasping his hands behind his back, posture relaxed, keen eyes taking in every inch of Matthew.

“It was an easy thing, to smuggle the letters into my cell. Before your arrival, Chilton, in his foolish pride, underestimated Will and I. Security in this facility is abysmal.”

His face turned amused, as if they were sharing a private joke. 

“Will had access to my office and was able to procure many hollow volumes from my library. An amusing invention, the hidden mechanism is easy for the casual eye to overlook. When Chilton allowed me access to my personal library, allowed me to transport them here, I found many such lovely letters.”

His eyes hardened. 

“I suppose I didn’t hide that particular letter well enough. After all, your last inspection of my cell was unannounced.”

Matthew met his gaze head on, narrowing his eyes, refusing to back down. He nodded once, tersely. 

“Why didn’t you tell me, Hannibal? I’m so in the dark, so full of doubt and insecurities and I feel like I’m going insane. None of this feels real. I feel like I’m going to wake up in the hospital, still reeling in agony from breaking our bond.”

Tears were gathering in his eyes and his voice came out more and more tight, strangled. It was getting harder to fight his heat. He bit his lip and looked up at Hannibal, watching his face soften with understanding and concern. His voice when he spoke was an intimate whisper. 

“Forgive us, beloved. I did not realize your pain.”

He opened his mouth to continue but reconsidered, turning his back and making his way over to the desk in his cell. He opened a portfolio and paged through some loose papers before picking up one and turning back. Unthinking, Matthew took a step forward when the alpha pressed the paper against the glass so he could see. 

It was a charcoal sketch, the soft lines creating a breathtaking likeness; Will and Matthew wrapped around each other in a lazy, intimate repose. The tenderness and longing that tore through Matthew at seeing it was overwhelming. He imagined Hannibal creating it, lounging at his desk, smiling softly to himself as he imagined a future where they all existed together, happy, free, in love, at peace. Matthew didn’t try to keep his voice from shaking. 

“You want me?”

Hannibal sighed and pressed his forehead against the glass, eyes sad. 

“Oh, little one. That I ever made you doubt that I want you, yearn for you and Will with an equal intensity...I would carve my heart out, here and now and serve it to you on a gilded platter. I would blind myself in penitence, pluck my worthless eyes from my fool head and cast them into the sea. If you doubt my words, I would remove my own forked tongue and never speak again.” 

Matthew laughed, rolling his eyes as Hannibal’s own sparkled at him. He crossed his arms over his chest, the vice around his heart easing but not gone. 

“You’re so fucking dramatic, Hannibal.” 

Hannibal smiled back at him, standing straight again. 

“I promise you that my reasons for keeping things from you were never insidious. I was waiting for the right time. I needed to be sure of both you and Will.” 

Matthew took a deep breath, steeling his heart from Hannibal’s pretty words.

“I can’t help but feel deceived, Hannibal. You looked me in the eye and said there were no more secrets between us. Was that a lie? Is this just another game for you?” 

“No games, no deceits, little one. I thought it best, after the trauma you underwent, to ease you into this.”

“This?”

“Our pack, the way it was meant to be. To earn your trust back, show that we want you, forever.” 

“And if I never trusted you again? Or if Will didn’t want me in the pack? Would you have been content to leave me behind? Is that why I’ve been kept in the dark about your plans? I know you aren’t going to stay locked up forever.”

Hannibal’s eyes flashed alpha red and he sneered again. Matthew whined in response.

“You are mine, Matthew. I knew it the moment we met. You were so beautiful, an angel of vengeance come to strike me down. When I scented you, I felt our bond form and felt the bond between our pack. I knew you were Will’s omega as much as you were mine and I rejoiced. I did everything I could to reach you but-”  
He broke off, looking frustrated, pacing his cage in agitation. There was a desperation in his eyes that went a long way to convince Matthew that the alpha was being sincere. 

“What do you mean you tried to reach me?”

Hannibal stopped pacing to slam his fist against the glass separating them, eyes red and wild. 

“So many things spiraled out of control, beloved. I never meant for you to suffer. I was preoccupied with trying to dissuade Agent Crawford from going after you on my behalf, trying to mend the burned bridge between Will and I, tracking down Abigail. I was forbidden from seeing you by your doctors. I only felt our fledgling bond fail when it was too late.”

Matthew frowned and once again stepped closer, the pull to his alpha hard to resist. He wanted to reach out to Hannibal, smooth the wrinkled frown between his eyes. 

“Too late?”

Hannibal’s smile was darkly bitter, a fanged thing that promised retribution and blood. Matthew shuddered, a feral thrill settling in his bones, aroused at the thought of Hannibal’s violent revenge. He could smell his own slick, honey and musk, a call for the man in front of him, his alpha, his mate. 

“Indeed. I became careless, acting erratic, letting Jack grow suspicious. Alana supported his invasive behavior, giving him access that was not hers to give. I came home to Jack in my basement, so like Ms. Katz that I thought it was a vivid dream. Until he shot me, of course.”

Hannibal rubbed absently at his shoulder and Matthew winced, aching to soothe and purr until the haunted look on Hannibal’s face disappeared. 

“Good old Jack had the upper hand and he kept it, arrested me. I fully cooperated, wanting Will to be released. I assumed Will would go to you immediately when he learned the truth, after he was a free man. I thought he would take care of you, mate you and end your suffering. Perhaps he was waylaid, as I was.” 

Matthew sighed and stepped close to the alpha, giving in to the need to reach out. He placed his palm fully flat on the barrier between them, smiling when Hannibal returned the gesture. The lines around the alpha’s eyes softened, the red beginning to fade. 

“It was Abigail.” 

Hannibal startled, as if jolted by electricity, the hand pressing on the glass curling into a fist. 

“I sent her out of the country when I went after you but apparently not soon enough. I don’t know why she waited, maybe to see if I lived. She sought out Will after his release and he has been hiding her away from the FBI and the press. She never seemed interested in being resurrected in the eyes of the world.”

Matthew blushed and looked away, suddenly shy. 

“I wanted to tell you...Will came to me. He’s been courting me.”

Hannibal hummed low in his throat and leaned closer. Matthew turned to look back at him, tilting his head down, giving the alpha a look from under his lashes. 

“That pleases me, Matthew. What a gift you are, letting your alphas care for you.”

Matthew wanted to writhe at the praise, embracing the warm glow that settled in his chest. Hannibal’s smile was fond. 

“I know Will even better than he knows himself. After the initial denial and guilt he would have stopped at nothing to have you. A family is what he wants more than anything in this uncertain world and I was trying with everything I have to give that to him, to you and Abigail. I wanted to prove myself worthy of our pack and I was blind to the ever closing predators, stopped before I could follow through with my plans. Forgive me, little one, for your pain and abandonment.”

The tears were back and Matthew did nothing to stem them, letting them flow freely in his soul deep relief. The band of pressure around his chest was gone, the boil full of his festering resentment lanced and drained. He felt exhausted, sagging against the glass with a quiet sob.

Faintly, he could hear Hannibal murmuring to him but his approaching heat made him dizzy, his head feeling full of cotton. He could smell Hannibal finally, the comfort of his scent doing nothing to ease the violent urges rising swiftly within him. He wanted to kill Hannibal as much as he wanted to fuck him but the hospital was no place for his battling instincts. He had to leave before it was too late, before his greatest secret was revealed. 

He wrenched his body away from Hannibal, away from his scent, stumbling back to lean against the opposite wall of the corridor. His clothes were soaked through with sweat, his body on fire, blood pumping, the smell of slick permeating everywhere. He saw the instant that Hannibal smelled him, his eyes dilating, snarling louder and louder the more distance that Matthew put between them. His voice was low, a seductive grumble that sent chills down Matthew’s spine, setting his nerves alight. 

“Matthew, are you in heat? Stop, come here, omega.” 

He shook his head, feeling as if the world was in slow motion, the lights flaring, making him blind, a far off clang further down the corridor making him flinch. 

“No, no, it’s not safe, alpha. There are things you don’t know… not here, not here.”

In a daze he left, the sounds of Hannibal’s voice, the unintelligible growls easy to ignore in his panicked state. The bright florescent lights of the corridor were too harsh on his sensitive eyes and he squeezed them shut, trying to parse through the sudden deluge of stimulation. 

There were other voices joining Hannibal’s, the pounding of fists on glass behind him and then the sounds of hurried footsteps ahead of him. His heat had never felt like this before, so overwhelming, leaving him uncharacteristically weak. Always, there had been the rush of adrenaline followed by the live wire promise of violence, like electricity under his skin, giving him a restless energy only sated by fists, teeth and blood. 

Now, he just felt disoriented, his limbs heavy. His omega was trying to cry out to his alphas over severed bonds, distraught and confused. Was this how other omegas felt during heat? Matthew hated it, hated that he couldn’t fight when rough, unfamiliar hands restrained him, hated that he couldn’t tear these strangers limb from limb for daring to touch him. But more than anything, he hated the pathetic trill that escaped him as he was dragged away, a call to his alpha. One that would go unanswered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feeling pretty meh about this chapter. It really fought me. Please validate me if you can.


	14. Chilton's Fate and Matthew's Flight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your comments and kudos. I was really struggling with personal stuff when I posted the last chapter. Y'all are so kind. <3

In a weak daze, Matthew let himself be dragged, eyes still shut against the bright light, foreign hands leaving bruises on his arms. He couldn’t hear anything past the pounding of his own heart, his rushing pulse and labored breaths loud in his overly sensitive ears. 

Eventually, he was pushed roughly onto a cold, concrete floor, collapsing with a gasp onto his side. He tried to curl his body tight but a large hand in his hair pulled his head back, exposing his neck to the assailants. 

He growled and flailed, striking out drunkenly with a clenched fist but it was easily blocked. He squinted his eyes open but could only see dark shadow people, outlined by the bright fluorescent lights overhead. He knew who they were, even if he couldn’t see their faces; Chilton’s lackeys. 

Cold metal around his throat made him flinch violently and a tell tale click sounded like a gunshot to his ears. The man over him let go of his hair and stepped back, allowing the weight of the object around his throat to settle; too heavy, too cold, indenting his soft flesh cruelly. 

In quiet, lonely moments, Matthew had wondered what it would be like to be collared by his alpha mate. He had daydreamed that his alpha would gently guide him to kneel on a soft surface, perhaps letting him press his face into his alpha’s thigh for a little bit, to savor the moment. 

His alpha would run dexterous fingers through his hair, telling Matthew how good he was, how loved he was. Will’s face flashed in Matthew’s mind. Would his alpha have made the collar by hand? A tasteful dark leather piece, padded thickly on the inside for comfort.

Hannibal’s face floated to mind next. Or would his alpha spare no expense to provide his omega with the best? A high end, tasteful piece, commissioned with Matthew in mind, a one of a kind collar for a once in a lifetime bond. 

Matthew had never imagined being collared like this, not even during his worst moments as a young, abused and neglected orphan. Taken by force, weak limbed and dizzy, surrounded by strange alphas. He reached up a trembling hand to grip at the monstrosity digging into his collarbone. It was a crude collar, with sharp edges, made of a heavy, bruising metal.

Instincts at the forefront, Matthew cried out and grappled with the clunky clasp, fingernails drawing blood, desperate to release himself. One of the shadows gave an annoyed grunt and knelt to take his wrists in large hands. 

“Stop it, oma. Or we’ll tie your hands down.”

Matthew went still at the touch on the scent glands at his wrists, swallowing the bile that rose in his throat. He let his arms go limp and ducked his head, the picture of submission. After a tense moment, the man grunted again and let go, standing and moving away. Matthew watched his brown leather oxford’s walk away. 

He couldn’t afford any more restraints, not if he wanted to fight back. He may feel weak now, his heat rage a distant memory but it could rise at any moment. No, it would rise, it always did. His omega specialist had said his first heat after the bond break would be different, perhaps even more intense. 

Matthew smirked down at the floor, tracing the cracks in the concrete with watery eyes. He had to bide his time, stall until the inevitable wave of violence and hatred rose within him, adding to his strength and prowess. Matthew would get through this, whatever this was. 

His senses were starting to settle and Matthew carefully took in the room with cautious glances from under his lowered lashes. It was bare save for a cot in the corner and a small, empty bookshelf. Brick walls and concrete floor painted bright white, a lone bulb in the ceiling the only light, right above his head. His collar was bolted to the wall behind him, the pin deep set and when one of the hulking alphas pulled on it, the pin held firm. It would take more strength than he had now to dislodge it. 

His stomach sank at the familiar sight; a patient isolation cell. These cells were so far removed from the main part of the building that no one would hear Matthew if he screamed. Matthew huffed out a quiet chuckle. Or should he say, no one would hear them scream. 

Seemingly done for now, the alpha testing his restraint left, motioning silently for the other to follow. The other alpha did so, sneering at Matthew as he passed. 

“I’m looking forward to this, brother. Think Chilton’ll give us a taste?”

“Come on, idiot. Get out of there before the little bitch imprints on us. The doc will kill us.” 

Matthew snarled, teeth bared at them until the heavy door swung shut. No click of the lock followed and Matthew shook his head, dragging his body to lean back against the wall, next to where his collar was bolted. His body was still on fire but the intense need had been banked, smothered for now by anxiety and stress. He hooked two fingers into the round pin holding his chain and pulled, twisting, trying to loosen the bolt. It didn’t budge. 

With a heavy sigh, Matthew leaned his head back, staring at the white ceiling. He shivered as the cold collar pressed against his scent gland, the swollen flesh sending pain jolting through him. He whined and drew his knees up, holding them with his arms, curling in on himself as well as he could. The motion brought to his awareness the pooling slick in his underwear and he flinched, squirming in discomfort. 

He panted into the crook of one elbow, pressing his burning forehead into it, closing his eyes against burning tears. He felt so fucking pathetic. Was this how a heat was supposed to feel without the heat rage? He felt so vulnerable, confused and weak. Hannibal’s face flashed in his mind again and he bit his lip on an instinctive keen, swallowing a call for his alpha, an alpha that couldn’t come to him, couldn’t hear him. 

What was Chilton playing at? Was this still about fame and the Chesapeake Ripper? Or had Matthew’s rejection of the inferior alpha made their tête-à-tête personal? Matthew’s hands tightened around his knees, body starting to tremble. Had he found his alphas just to lose them? Would they want him after this, if his heat rage didn’t come and Chilton sank his teeth into the omega’s bonding gland? 

The thought of being Chilton’s mate was so heinous, so utterly disgusting that Matthew uncurled and threw himself at the blot again, twisting and pulling until his fingers bled. Until the flesh of his hands was raw and scraped away and his vision blurred from panicked tears. With a mournful cry, Matthew punched the brick wall, once, twice, feeling something in his hand move, something painful. 

He clutched his swollen, bruised hand to his chest, staring blindly as his red blood marred the pristine white paint. The slow trickle of blood satisfied something deep within him, a rising feeling that ebbed and flowed, drawing ever nearer, washing away the weakness from his limbs, clearing the cotton from his brain. The dripping red seemed to come to his eyes with a sharper clarity, the faint, familiar smell of iron making his omega purr. 

Matthew laughed and bit his lip with his sharp canines, slicing the tender flesh open. The rich tang of blood filled the air and he tasted it in his mouth, felt liquid heat run down his chin. He spat, marking the blank floor with more red, smearing it with his uninjured hand. He could feel something dark and feral rise within him, clawing and tearing his chest, trying to break through his ribs and set itself free. 

Was that all it took? A little blood and his inner beast came out to play? His lip was still flowing freely and he raised his hand to coat his fingers in blood. He painted his face with it, spreading it over every inch of his face and smeared it over the collar, chasing away the foreign alpha scent. 

A low, rumbling purr rattled his chest and he was grinning now, elation and relief spreading through him, pushing down his need to breed, to be taken. What took its place was familiar and Matthew welcomed the violent urge like a long lost lover, letting the instinct to kill and maim overtake everything. 

He wasn’t Matthew any longer, he wasn’t an omega, a man. He was Death, woe, rage and revenge. His rational mind retreated and Matthew didn’t fight it like he would have before. He let it go, let everything go.

The chain, shiny and new, caught his eye and he grasped it with strong, sure hands. He pulled it apart until the thick links snapped, as easy as dried bone, the tension around his collar disappearing as suddenly as it came. He tried to do the same to the collar but it sat too closely to his vulnerable neck and he gave up his efforts. He was free now, not held in place and that was all that mattered. 

The loud clacking of a cane on concrete sounded from the corridor and Matthew bared even more teeth in a manic, blood covered grin. He turned to the door as it swung open, growling and snarling, eyes flashing omega gold. Only a fool would dare to approach him now, wild and unhinged as he was. 

And Chilton was nothing but a fool, an idiot that meddled where he ought not. And he was going to die today. 

Chilton went pale at the sight of Matthew, freezing like prey in the doorway, hand white knuckled as he clutched his cane. He opened his mouth, maybe to speak or to scream but Matthew was beyond patience and mercy. He lunged at Chilton, pulling the alpha into the room with one hand and swinging the door shut with the other. Chilton screamed, high and strangled and stumbled away. 

“Help! Help me, damn you!”

Matthew went still, poised in front of the closed door, head cocked to hear any incoming cavalry. It was silent on the other side of the door, no footsteps, there was no one coming to save Dr Chilton. The alpha must have realized his fate as well because he fell silent, his scent sour with terror and helplessness. 

Matthew turned to Chilton, movements slow and deliberate, every muscle tensed, all his senses trained towards the alpha. Chilton was babbling, voice trembling as he spoke but Matthew couldn’t parse his words, had no interest to do so. In a few quick, fluid movements he was upon the alpha, hands around his throat, bearing him down to the ground. 

Chilton swung with his cane, glancing a blow against Matthew’s shoulder and he flinched before pursing his lips in annoyance. He took one hand off Chilton’s neck and ripped the cane away. Chilton moaned and whined under him, thrashing and digging his blunt nails into Matthew’s straining forearms. His bucking unseated Matthew for an instant and the omega snarled as he fell back, landing on his ass next to the alpha. Chilton rolled away from him, intent on crawling away and Matthew grabbed his ankle, grunting when Chilton kicked him in the jaw with his free foot, dislodging Matthew’s grip.

“Let go of me, you crazy bitch!” 

Despite the flare of pain, Matthew rose to his knees and lunged, swinging the head of the cane down and landing a solid blow to Chilton’s genitals. The alpha howled and curled in on himself, clutching his groin. Matthew took the opening and hit Chilton on the head with the heavy cane, once, twice. It worked to disorient the alpha and he uncurled, moaning in pain, blood pouring down his face. 

Matthew scrambled on top of him, knees holding Chilton’s shoulders pinned as he forced the alpha’s mouth open with the cane, pushing it in roughly. He didn’t recognize his own voice when he spoke, guttural and completely animal.

“Is this what you wanted from me, alpha?”

He pushed the cane deeper into Chilton’s mouth, making him choke. The alpha made visceral gurgling noises, eyes wide and pleading, not even a trace of red in them. Matthew sneered down at him, disgusted. 

“You wanted a nice, little omega to kneel for you, hmm? Choke on your big alpha cock and beg for more? Or…”

Matthew twisted the cane and withdrew it quickly, hitting Chilton’s forehead with it. The flesh split open and Matthew’s nostrils flared at the smell of fresh blood not his own, that darkness within him swirling even higher. Something snicked and the head of the cane loosened under Matthew’s fist. Matthew paused on another blow, twisting the head of the cane, laughing in delight when it came all the way loose, revealing a hidden dagger. The blade shined under the light, looking sharp and wicked. 

Chilton laid there in shock as Matthew walked his knees back over the alpha’s body and the omega came to sit on Chilton’s knees. The dagger cut through Chilton’s trousers like butter and Matthew held the blade to the alpha’s flaccid cock, enjoying the unfettered terror in his dulled eyes. 

“Or, maybe you wanted me on my hands and knees, begging for your knot? I mean, why else would you lock me up and come to me during my heat? Come on, tell me.”

Chilton’s whole body was shaking now, his voice raw and abused sounding. 

“Please, please, have mercy. Have mercy, please.”

Matthew gave a mock gasp and lifted the blade away, tsking as he straightened to loom over the alpha. He crawled up Chilton’s body again and gently caressed the bruises on the alpha’s throat, baring his teeth in a dark grin. 

“You ask me for mercy? Let me ask you a question.”

He leaned closer, close enough to feel Chilton’s ragged breath on his face. 

“Where was my mercy, doctor? Where was mine?”

Matthew hissed and tightened both hands around the alpha’s throat, pressing his thumbs into his windpipe, using all of his weight to strangle him. 

Chilton turned purple quickly and Matthew pressed his full body against the alpha’s, trying to still his panicked convulsions. There wasn’t much the alpha could do against Matthew, the omega was too heavy, too strong. Chilton’s grasping hands grew weaker and Matthew stared into his wide, bloodshot eyes, relishing the moment the alpha gave up, gave in, realized his fate. 

Eventually, the spark of life left Chilton’s eyes and the alpha went still, sightlessly staring at his aggressor. Matthew was breathing hard, his whole body a live wire of anticipation and satisfaction. He held his grip for a few more moments before letting go, grinning when Chilton’s thick skull slammed against the concrete floor with a loud thunk. 

Chilton didn’t smell like alpha musk anymore, he smelled like meat. Tenderly, Matthew ran a hand down from Chilton’s throat and over his chest, his abdomen. With no hesitation, he untucked the dead man’s shirt and ripped it open, several severed buttons flying away. The dagger from the cane followed the path his hand had taken, digging enough to dent the skin but not enough to draw blood. 

What should he take? What would be best, the liver, the heart? 

A shout from the corridor, the sounds of struggle, the familiar gurgle of a slit throat. More guards? Police? Matthew couldn’t afford to find out. He rose gracefully, his hand tight around the dagger and he opened the heavy steel door to the cell. The smell of blood, a lot of it, reached him, the sour stench of panicked alpha like a fog in the air, emanating from the left. 

Matthew wasn’t very familiar with this part of the hospital but he couldn’t be caught while in heat. He had to get home, to his nest, to safety. He couldn’t afford to be seen, followed. He turned right, running swiftly down the dark corridor as silently as he could. 

Behind him, not far down the corridor came a shout, one that sounded like his name but Matthew didn’t pause, didn’t stop and turn. He ran faster, growling loudly at the sounds of pursuit, one pair of footsteps gaining on him too quickly. An oppressive cloud of alpha pheromones enveloped Matthew before his pursuer reached him and he choked on the smell of rotting wood and damp earth. 

It was familiar in a distant way, breaking through the fog of his heat rage to sink into his overly tuned senses. He stumbled, gasping and that was enough for the alpha to catch him. He was spun around by strong, sure hands and had no time to protest before there were firm lips pressed to his own, harsh and all consuming. Again, his mind stalled. The taste of this alpha called to something deep inside him, his omega confused, unsure. 

For a precious moment, Matthew didn’t fight the kiss, melting into the alpha’s broad chest, reveling in the warm hands grasping his biceps. Just as quickly, the soft moment was gone, his omega rising, blood thirsty, a feral animal cornered and threatened. The kiss had opened up his split lip again and the taste of fresh blood awoke even more violence within his heart. His heat rage rose again and he let himself be consumed, tightening his grip on the dagger and striking out, arching up with a wide slash that hit its mark. 

The alpha gasped, clutching his abdomen as blood bloomed under his white shirt, beautiful and brazen. Matthew grinned, slashing out again when the alpha reached for him, expression open and devastated. 

“Mylimasis…”

But the word, uttered so forlornly, meant nothing to Matthew and he turned from this foreign alpha as he collapsed on the cold floor and made his way out of the hospital, meeting no resistance. 

*** 

Matthew didn’t remember the drive to his nest but he remembered the fever, so much more intense than usual, feeling as if his body was burning from the inside out. Would this heat kill him? He hadn’t had the time to consume his alpha prey and he was losing himself more and more, his conscious mind slipping away and taking longer to come back.

Was this what the heat rage was always destined to lead to? The burning away by fever of all of his higher functions, leaving only feral instincts in its place? What were the long term effects of a traumatic bond break on an omega with heat rage? 

He careened wildly into his driveway, parking on the front lawn and stumbling blindly from the driver’s seat. He was breathing harshly, his body wildly swinging from being slick and aroused to wanting to hunt, to kill, to maim. He whined as he fell up the porch steps, hitting his head as he landed. He gasped, disoriented, the world around him spinning, the smell of blood too strong. He couldn’t think clearly, his limbs heavy. He closed his eyes, to rest, for just a moment…

When he blinked awake again, he was still crumpled up on his front porch, shivering pathetically in the early morning. The sky was pink, dawn just beginning to break. How long had he been here, exposed and vulnerable? With a hiss, Matthew rolled over, pulling his aching body to his knees and fumbling with his keys. The smell, the familiar feel of his home, his nest greeted him and he crawled through the door, shutting it silently and locking it. 

Just when he was gathering the strength to stand and make his way to his nest and relative safety, there was a loud, resounding knock on the door at his back, the vibrations echoing through his tired bones. He went still, his body and senses trained towards every small sound on the other side, a sneer curling his lip. After a moment the knock came again and a brash, masculine voice, no nonsense in tone followed. 

“Matthew Brown? It’s Agent Jack Crawford. We met at the hospital before? I need to speak with you.”

Matthew laughed, low and hysterical and banged his head against the door. He was aware enough to realize that Jack fucking Crawford was the absolute worst person he could be confronted with right now. Police. Alpha. Bad. Whispered in his mind, his omega pacing and snarling in his chest, begging to be set loose. A rush of adrenaline cleared his mind enough for him to think. 

He could hide. Crawford had no cause to break down his front door. But then would he try to reach out to Chilton, his alpha by law? Would this FBI agent go so far as to travel to the BSHCI, would he find the body? He would be right back here, banging on Matthew door, tearing it down to reach him. And then...only blood would follow because Matthew wasn’t a man to be taken without a fight. 

He couldn’t let that happen. He knew what the fate of institutionalized omegas was, knew first hand what awaited him in any care facility. He had to distract Crawford or perhaps incapacitate the alpha long enough for Matthew to flee. Just as Matthew was gathering himself to stand and speak, another voice drowned out Crawford’s irate one. It was ominous, this new voice, crawling along Matthew’s skin like a dark caress. 

“Harassing my omega, Jack?” 

He shivered and rose high enough to look out the peephole, squinting in the fish eyed view of the front porch and the shadowy figures standing there. There was a pause and then Matthew could hear the sounds of Crawford slowly turning to face the new voice, the quiet susurration of his clothes as loud as a shout in the dead silence. He held his breath to better listen, fighting down his rising heat. 

“Will? What are you doing here? Never mind that. Where the hell have you been?”

Matthew gasped and stumbled away from the door, his hip catching on the hall table, sending it careening to the floor with a crash. Will. Will. Alpha. Dangerous. Run.   
His heat was rising, the feral feeling of contained violence battering against his laboring ribs. His mind was a mess of hormones, his thoughts skittering away like leaves in a gale. He didn’t try to chase them, letting his consciousness sink into the dark depths, instinct rising with a vengeance. 

Matthew could fight these alphas, make them submit and die but the sound of a loud struggle came floating down the hallway. Snarls, shouts and the loud crack of breaking wood, heavy bodies falling through the porch banister to land on the frozen ground below.

Decided, he turned and entered his nest, frantically gathering what he could reach and stuffing the items into a black duffel bag. Food, water, basic supplies and clothes. He could never come back here, not after tonight and his omega knew that. There was no thought to where he was going, he just knew he had to leave. 

Hand on the knob of the back patio door, Matthew froze, watching an ominous shadow pass in front of the glass. With his heat enhanced hearing, he could still make out the growling alphas out front. A new intruder. A new threat, blocking his only way out. He ducked back as the door knob violently turned, crouching low and moving back into his bedroom, crawling around his nest to check the fight out front. His porch light was on but it did almost nothing to illuminate details, only revealing that both of the alphas were covered in blood. 

He would have to stand and fight. It was ideal really. Where the hell could he have gone? Into the woods? Stupid fucking instincts. It was becoming harder and harder to think clearly, logically. He moved away from the bedroom window and to his dropped duffel bag in the hallway, unzipping it hurriedly. His favorite knife greeted him, shining in the dull porch light filtering in from the front windows, wickedly serrated on one side. He didn’t test the edge, he always kept it sharp.

Sudden silence out front had Matthew running back to the front door, gripping the hilt of his knife with firm resolve. The sounds from the back patio door had ceased as well, the heavy silence ringing like a death knell in Matthew’s ears. He crept along the hallway on silent feet, glowing golden eyes trained ahead, unblinking. His omega rose eagerly within Matthew, taking control as seamlessly as if Matthew had never existed as anything but this; animal, feral, wild.

Two steps away and an impressive thud sounded against the heavy wood, making Matthew flinch and go still. A low, bass, guttural growl and another thud. This time the door bowed inward, hinges shrieking in protest. At the same instant, a loud shattering of glass came from the patio door and Matthew spun, holding his knife out in defense. He could see the back door from his position and the shadow from earlier slowly reached in and unlocked the door, swinging it wide. 

The wind blew in, keeping pace with the intruder as they stepped forward, bringing dead leaves and a pungent smell of angry alpha, red eyes glowing. Matthew’s warning growl was answered by a deeper, darker one, the alpha working to pump out dominant hormones, to make this omega submit. 

In the dark, Matthew gave the shadowed alpha a shark like grin. No alpha was strong enough to make this omega theirs. This alpha would learn the hard way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two more chapters left! Let me know about tags for this fic. I'm having trouble thinking of any, if it even needs any.


	15. An Invitation to Dance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love you all, seriously. I'm so glad there are people out there who enjoy this rare pair as much as I do!

The hinges on the front door failed against the onslaught just as Matthew ran at the alpha who had stepped into his den. He heard the door explode inward, the scent of a second enraged alpha wafting through the hallway, soaking its way into the walls, the floor, the furniture and Matthew’s clouded mind. 

Maybe, for another omega, being faced with two virile, dangerous alphas would have them crawling on their knees, presenting and begging to be taken and owned. But for Matthew, the smell of them, the anger in their scent, the _audacity_ that lay behind their trespassing stoked his heat rage higher, feeding the flames of his fury until he was left insensate, aching to sink his knife deep and twist. 

The alpha already inside braced himself as Matthew drew closer, obviously expecting a collision. With an amused flash of his canines, Matthew feinted towards the right, as if to flee into the dark kitchen and the alpha took two steps to intercept him, blocking the kitchen doorway and leaving the patio door wide open. 

The smallest shaft of light fell over the alpha’s form when he moved and Matthew saw he held no weapon, his gloved hands spread wide and reaching for the omega. Matthew pivoted towards the open back door at the last second, slicing his knife up at the hands trying to touch him and landing a blow. 

The alpha gave a long, loud hiss, his hands retreating, allowing Matthew the advantage to flee to a more open battle ground. This alpha was broad, he looked stronger than Matthew and obviously keen eyed. But compromised enough by the thought of claiming Matthew that he fell for such an easy feint. Or he was underestimating Matthew? 

The thought made Matthew snarl, his anger climbing as he vaulted off the back porch and onto the cold ground. The tree line wasn’t far away, a hundred steps at most. He could run, he knew the woods around his property enough to lose one pursuer. But two? Were these alphas working together? He’d never faced more than one alpha, not even during heat. 

He was faster than the alpha, he had an advantage, he could make it, hide, regroup. Even in his rage, Matthew was still an omega in heat. One wrong move, one miscalculated risk and he’d be on his knees, claimed, bred and collared. 

His breath caught and he stalled at the treeline, watching his cold breaths puff into the air and disappear under the rising moonlight. Isn’t that what he always wanted, deep down? An alpha strong enough to make him submit, an alpha clever enough to outmaneuver Matthew at his best, an alpha that could face Matthew’s overwhelming and violent instincts and keep the both of them safe? Wasn’t such an alpha a worthy mate? 

The sound of hurried footsteps came to him and he ducked, anticipating the strike and spun, weaving around the alpha and hitting his wrist. Something fell to the ground as the alpha growled and opened his palm but Matthew didn’t pause, using his superior speed to come behind the alpha. Matthew stabbed forward with his knife, aiming for the right kidney but the alpha turned, catching the flat side of the blade with his uninjured arm, knocking it sideways. 

Matthew’s fingers slipped and he jumped back, regripping the handle and hissing in anger. The alpha moved fast, his movements fluid and deadly as he produced another weapon, small, too small...a syringe? Matthew gave a hoarse, guttural yell and slashed out again, making the alpha lean away to avoid the knife. 

How _dare_ this alpha! What was in the syringe? A sedative? Unfair...but clever. Underhanded...but didn’t his omega prize strength _and_ intelligence? 

Matthew didn’t pause in his assault, following the retreating alpha back towards the treeline, watching the blood that dripped from more than one wound on the alpha’s muscled body with hungry eyes. The alpha wore a thin white tee shirt and Matthew could make out a familiar wound on his abdomen, the crude, hurried bandage soaked red.  
Matthew had made that wound, he was sure of it. This was the same alpha from the hospital, the one that has pursued him as he fled. The knowledge sparked something in the back of Matthew’s mind, trying to penetrate the red haze that permeated his hormone soaked brain…

A noise came from the porch at Matthew’s back; slow, measured footsteps descending the stairs, the unmistakable sound of something heavy being dragged. It distracted Matthew’s opponent, the alpha’s eyes leaving the omega for an instant to look past him, over his shoulder. Foolish. 

Matthew was fast, strong and lithe but most of all, Matthew was _opportunistic_. He had built plenty of momentum in the wake of the alpha’s retreat and he capitalized on it, rushing forward and dropping low to swing his knife at the alpha’s legs. An alpha unable to walk and flee was an alpha too vulnerable to win. 

Matthew’s knife sank deep into the back of the alpha’s calf and he grunted, falling to one knee. His control was impressive, Matthew had made alpha’s howl and scream with far less damage. 

Matthew stood over the alpha, triumphant and grinning. His omega purred and preened under his skin, pleased to see such a strong opponent on their knees. The alpha was panting, his control slipping enough that the red bled from his eyes. Matthew had his knife raised, ready to press his advantage and kill this unworthy alpha but the sight of his eyes…

At once brown and maroon, the alpha red never really absent even in his most calm of moods. Beautiful, familiar...now at once tortured and proud, shining up at Matthew with a deep fondness that made the omega’s heart clench with longing. 

He hesitated too long, letting the second alpha get too close. The dragging sound stopped behind him, the scent of death, blood and pine sap surrounding Matthew and his kneeling opponent. Matthew growled and leaped to the side, retreating far enough away to see both alphas, knife never wavering as he held it aloft, ready to strike. 

But the alphas didn’t move, one still kneeling, bleeding freely from his wounds, the other still as a statue, arms loose at his sides, hands open. Two sets of calm eyes watched him even as they spoke to one another. Matthew stood tense, still and wide eyed, growing more and more frustrated as he listened to them. 

“I could have used your help sooner, Will. Our omega is quite the warrior.”

The newest alpha snorted out a laugh. 

“I can see that. Thought you could handle it, Hannibal. Guess I was wrong, he kicked your ass.”

Will...Hannibal. Again that rising tide of awareness in his mind, his omega frozen with indecision. What was happening? Why was his omega so confused? The kneeling alpha, Hannibal, tilted his head towards the large, shadowed lump on the ground, the thing that Will had been dragging. 

“Is that our dear Jack?”

Will sneered and kicked the body, never taking his eyes off Matthew. 

“Nope. Jack is in my trunk...alive.”

Hannibal pressed his lips together, clearly disappointed but said nothing. Will leaned down and grabbed the clothes of the body with both hands and began making his way closer to Matthew, steps slow and measured, gaze steady. Matthew tensed and gripped his knife tighter, growling low in warning, his eyes flicking quickly between the two alphas, wary. Will grunted and kept advancing until he was halfway between Hannibal and Matthew. 

He sighed and let the body fall with a thud on the frozen ground, breaths puffing in the air. He stood straight and ran a hand through his messy curls, smiling wryly at Matthew, blue eyes dancing. The moon was bright, wreathing the alpha lovingly in soothing shadows, the silver light catching on his large canines. 

Matthew’s breath caught at the sight, his throat feeling tight with an unknown emotion. His omega was excited, the smell of blood, meat and alpha at once a pleasure and a threat. After a moment, Will leaned down slowly, sure hands working the shirt off the body, revealing an expanse of pale skin. 

The alpha lifted up the back of his own shirt, producing a knife, one that Matthew recognized from his own kitchen. With no hesitation, Will plunged the knife into the body’s stomach, slicing it open, from one side to the other. Matthew’s breath caught on a strangled gasp as the smell of blood overwhelmed all of his senses, sinking a hook deep into his instincts. 

This alpha was offering him a fresh kill, meat and blood, organs and sustenance. The siren call was too much for Matthew. As Will left the knife in the body and raised his blood soaked hands, retreating back to Hannibal, the omega crept forward. He was so hungry, the thought of digging his hands deep and pulling out and consuming the liver, the spleen made him shudder in anticipation. 

Matthew knelt next to the body but froze, keeping his eyes trained on the alphas, both of them watching him with dark, intense eyes. After a moment, Will left out a huff and turned to Hannibal, urging him to sit back. Hannibal still watched Matthew’s every move but allowed the other alpha to see to his wounds. Matthew watched them a moment longer but eventually let himself relax, satisfied that they would keep their distance for now. 

He sat his knife down next to his thigh, well within reach and bit his lip, inhaling deeply, mouth watering in anticipation. He wanted to howl in triumph, wanted to preen at such a worthy gift. Instead, he slipped his hands deep into the abdomen, pulling out the neatly severed liver. The alpha had done a good job with the presentation of this gift, competently removing the intestines and quickly locating the best organs for the omega to consume. 

_Good alpha, my alpha_. 

With a moan, Matthew took his first bite, allowing his eyes to slide shut in ecstasy. There was a poignant pause of noise from the alphas and Matthew snapped his eyes open to glare at them, hunching over the body, growling in warning. But they were unmoving, watching him eat with blown wide pupils, their faces open, dark, possessive. Will swallowed roughly and turned back to Hannibal, helping the other alpha remove his shredded shirt. He made a tourniquet with it, putting pressure on Hannibal’s still bleeding calf. 

Slowly, Matthew turned his attention away again, taking another bite of the liver and chasing the clarity that came with it. It was a familiar feeling, the retreat of the fog in his mind and the arrival of logical thought. He felt his heat rage abating the more he ate and listened to the alphas talk with half an ear, more concerned with digging out more organs. Hannibal’s dulcet tones reached his ears first, speaking softly. 

“A fitting end for a man that has so wronged us.”

The scent of burning pine sap followed those words and Matthew glanced at them from under his eye lashes, enjoying the sneer on Will’s face. _Will. Alpha. Mine._ Yes, he was remembering; the courting gifts, the promises of love and devotion. Hannibal seemed amused by Will’s reaction, his lips tilting upward, eyes crinkling at the edges. _Hannibal. Alpha. Mine._

As Matthew finished one kidney and reached for the second, his mind was finally free of its enraged fog. The need for violence simmered under his skin still, adrenaline pumping, needing _something_. Will spoke before he could linger on his whirling thoughts. 

“Chilton deserved worse than this, worse than what Matt did to the bastard. He would have taken our omega, _raped_ him. I wish I had gotten my hands on him…”

Will’s fists clenched as he leaned back in his crouched position over Hannibal, forearms resting on his thighs. Matthew looked away when they turned their heads to watch him, staring at the meat in his hands too intently. He flicked his eyes up to the head, taking in the body’s features dispassionately, his pleasure taking on a new dimension. 

“Our beloved handled him quite nicely.” 

Matthew smirked at that, letting the purr he had been suppressing rise in his chest. It was loud, a deep rumble that halted their conversation again. He looked up, his smirk growing at the astonishment on their faces. They caught his grin, Will’s eyes narrowing suspiciously even as Hannibal smirked back. Will spoke. 

“He looks much calmer.”

Matthew swallowed his last bite of the second kidney, flicking his tongue over each bloody finger, savoring the taste. He sat back, sprawling to lean on his elbows, knees spreading wide as he relaxed. He spoke before Hannibal could, his purr caressing each word, making his voice a husky rumble. The alphas tensed, watching him with dark, covetous eyes. 

“I feel much better. My alpha is so good to me. Although...neither of you seems surprised by any of this. And how the hell did _you_ escape?””

Matthew waved his hand to indicate the body and mimed eating the organs before pointing accusingly at Hannibal. Hannibal’s smirk grew, the alpha looking way too damn smug. Matthew wanted to kiss him.

“No prison can keep me from what is mine. Our coming together was destined, our future written in the stars.”

Silence followed Hannibal’s words for a moment before Will pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling noisily. Matthew rolled his eyes and chuckled at the alpha’s exasperation. Then Will opened his eyes again and he gave Hannibal a frown, a repressed smile dancing along the edges of his lips. 

“That answered exactly nothing but I don’t even care right now. I _attacked_ you Hannibal, twice. You don’t seem pissed. If anything, you seemed to enjoy it.”

Hannibal’s eyes darkened again and Will bit his lip as the other alpha’s scent deepened. He seemed just as affected by Hannibal’s scent as Matthew was. The omega pressed his ass into the ground, the pressure sending a shiver up his spin. He was so fucking wet, surrounded by the scent of two dangerous alphas, basking in the wake of a full meal.  
Neither alpha had tried to approach him and Matthew was thankful for it. His instincts were still simmering, violence and arousal fighting for dominance. Unlike before, his heat wasn’t abating. Was the kill as important as the meal? Or was his omega ready for something else, something only his alphas could give him? 

Will pursed his lips and blew out a loud breath, looking guilty. He sat down heavily beside Hannibal, one knee raised and the other stretching out before him. He leaned back on his hands, face pinched. 

“Abigail was very open when it came to speaking of you, Matt. I don’t think she meant it maliciously. Most of her efforts seemed to be aimed towards...enticing me to seek you  
out.” 

He rushed on, leaning forward, looking concerned. 

“I would have sought you out no matter what, little one. You’re _mine_,” he glanced at Hannibal with a sly grin, “_ours_.”

Matthew shivered and bit his lip. 

“She told you...about…”

Hannibal spoke as Matthew trailed off, his voice low and soothing. 

“Heat rage. A common condition for our ancestors, a way for omegas to choose only the most worthy of mates. A potential pair, usually an alpha and omega, would fight for dominance. If the alpha won, they would mate and breed but if the omega won...the alpha would die a bloody death.”

Hannibal's eyes bled red, his face almost incandescent with an emotion that took Matthew’s breath away. 

“An intelligent omega, a clever one, perhaps even one with pups, would not waste such an optimal source of sustenance. They would consume the defeated alpha, eating the most choice parts and share it among their pack.”

Matthew took a shaky breath, eyes pricking with tears at the reverence in Hannibal’s voice. Will looked just as awed, his blue eyes drilling into Matthew with a naked want that had the omega swallowing thickly. He looked down at his blood soaked clothes, lips twisting into a bitter smile. 

“I didn’t know that. In fact, I’ve never even heard of another omega acting the way I do. In or out of heat.”

Hannibal scoffed, leaning into Will’s side with a wince. A flare of guilt consumed Matthew as he watched the alpha hold his side, the one where the omega had sliced him open at the hospital. He never would have attacked Hannibal in his right mind. His alpha was hurt because of his heat rage. How could both alphas look so pleased?

“Do not strive to be anyone else, Matthew. Only the most worthy of omegas test potential mates in such a way.”

Will nodded and laid his hand on Hannibal’s thigh. They shared a soft smile and yearning crashed over Matthew, spreading out through his chest and into his very bones. The distance between him and his alphas was suddenly unacceptable. He wanted to crawl to them, beg to be touched and held tight. 

The thought of Will’s calloused hands on his own knee made Matthew squirm and the tell tale slide of leaking slick made his breath catch. Will’s voice came to him as if through a tunnel and he shook his head, trying harder to focus on the words the alpha said, pushing down his rising arousal, ignoring the frustration of his inner omega. Will’s eyes bled red as well as he turned back to Matthew, his face near worshipful. 

“You don’t even have to hunt them, do you? They come to you, a true wolf in sheep’s clothing.”

Will smiled, eyes shining as if he were gazing at a beautiful work of art or a god come down from the heavens. Matthew whined, low and wanting. No one had ever looked at him like that. It was intoxicating. It made him warm, a burning heat overtaking the yearning in his breast. Will flexed his hand on Hannibal’s knee, digging his nails into the flesh of the other alpha’s thigh. Hannibal didn’t flinch but Matthew did, wishing desperately that those rough fingers were touching him instead. 

“What better lure than a beautiful omega on the cusp of heat, smelling delicious, acting soft and submissive. They flock to you, don’t they? Unaware of the danger, blinded and stupid by their inferior minds, so overloaded by their arrogance and clouded by hormones. Do they ever offer you a worthy fight?”

Matthew could only shake his head, mind starting to cloud with a different fog, the red haze of violence absent for the first time ever. Will’s voice was hypnotic, pulling Matthew into a relaxing lull. Fuck, he could listen to Will talk for hours. 

“Has anyone ever bested you, Matthew? Made you kneel and submit?”

Matthew scoffed and ran a finger, slow and soft, down the side of his neck, smirking as he caressed his untouched bonding gland. The metal collar was loose enough that pulling it to one side and down exposed his aching gland to the hungry eyes of his alphas. It pulsed under his fingers, echoing the yearning in their gaze. 

“Obviously not.” 

Will growled, his upper lip lifting to expose his alpha canines, long and shining in the moonlight. Matthew chuckled, eyes falling half closed as the alpha’s scents came to him, a potent mixture of arousal and dominance from the both of them. He was growing hotter, fever rising in response to his alphas but it was a softer feeling, lacking the immediacy and panic he was used to feeling while in heat. 

Hannibal chuckled, fluidly rising to his feet, pulling Will up after him. Matthew’s eyes widened, tracking their every movement, anticipation rising. Hannibal showed no signs that his wounds bothered him, taking a step towards Matthew as if pulled by an invisible string. 

“Just when I think I truly understand you, mylimasis, you surprise me once again.”

The alpha’s eyes blazed with an inner fire that was almost inhuman and Matthew whined, rising to stand himself. The air between the three of them was heavy and Matthew didn’t know how to interpret it. He knew what he wanted. He wanted to play, to mock fight, to struggle knowing that in the end he would lose, submit and be taken. There would be no one for him but the two before him, his pack, his alphas. 

He loved them, he realized suddenly. He loved Will and Hannibal both with an all consuming passion that was incomprehensible, unexplainable. A love and devotion that could never be removed from him, so far into his very bones that to abandon it was to kill himself. 

He would never recover what he was before he met them. While the reality of that should have been frightening, in that moment, Matthew felt nothing but freedom. The shackles put upon him by a lifetime of struggle and ostracization fell away, leaving him empty, ready to be filled with something new, something precious. Family. Pack. _Alphas_. 

"What do you want, mylimasis?"

The softly spoken question sent Matthew reeling, heart pounding in his chest and tears pricking in his eyes. No one had ever, _not once_, asked Matthew what he wanted, in any situation. Society expected him to bend and break under their expectations, alphas only expected him to be silent and submissive. Will spoke next, as the alphas began to separate, going in opposite directions to flank Matthew. His voice held a subvocal growl, the dangerous warning at odds with his tranquil tone. Matthew let himself be lulled, desperate to anchor his warring instincts in something real. Will was real, Hannibal was real. 

“You’re lonely, little one. Let us love you. It would be an honor, a privilege to make you ours.”

Hannibal hummed, still moving to the side slowly. Matthew flicked his gaze between them, following their movements with hungry eyes. 

“We would not betray you again, dearest. The havoc you would wreak upon our undeserving flesh would be a just punishment, should we disappoint you again. I would welcome your wrath then, content to sacrifice my unworthy self upon your bloody altar.”

Will huffed a laugh but didn’t disagree, shrugging with a wry air when Matthew raised an eyebrow at him. 

“What he said.”

Matthew closed his eyes, taking a deep, cleansing breath before opening them again, falling into a defensive stance, knife forgotten on the ground at his feet. He could feel his mind sinking back into his heat rage but this time, Matthew was able to control how far he fell. 

And even if he lost control and fell too far into that beckoning violent red haze, he knew his alphas would be there to catch him. They would be able to bring him back to reality, back to their loving, protective embrace. He would meet their mating dance with closed fists and an open heart. He prayed to any ancient omegan deity that was listening that his alphas would win, claim him and keep their promises to love him always.

He knew what Will and Hannibal wanted. Now he just had to make them _earn_ it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now I have to figure out how the hell to write smut that involves fighting and three partners without it getting too confusing...lmao
> 
> EDIT: small edit to chapter to mention that Matthew still has on the collar from the hospital.


	16. A Tempestuous Encounter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said this was the last chapter but the smut ran longer than I expected. haha, sorry? not sorry? 
> 
> One more chapter after this!

What Hannibal lacked in speed, Will compensated for. Hannibal was fearless, direct and overwhelming with his hits, making Matthew fall back to avoid being brought down with one strike. Will circled them as they fought, eyes dark and calculating, watching Matthew dance and weave, not landing a blow as Hannibal advanced. 

Hannibal didn’t show that his wounds bothered him but Matthew could tell he was moving slower, leaning to the left, wincing when he swung his left arm. Matthew was at once concerned for his alpha and darkly pleased to have inflicted those wounds on such a dangerous predator. 

Will’s hovering was making Matthew paranoid, causing the omega to constantly split his attention between the two alphas. He was forced to make sure that Will was never at his back as well as deflect Hannibal’s attack. 

Matthew growled and grit his teeth, growing frustrated. He hated being on the defense. He was a man of action, a whirlwind of dark and bloody wrath to be feared. He allowed his mind to fall further into his heat rage, welcoming the red haze of violence as he stood his ground, no longer dancing away from Hannibal. 

The full moon was high in the night sky now and Matthew followed the ripple of muscle on Hannibal’s naked chest as the alpha moved swiftly to attack. The shirt tied tightly around his abdomen, covering his knife wound was slipping. Matthew considered waiting for Hannibal to strike again, dipping low and digging unforgiving fingers into it, using his enhanced heat strength to rip it wider. 

He could vividly imagine it; Hannibal’s howl of pain and rage, the give of delicate skin under Matthew’s clawing fingers, the alpha falling to his knees, the perfect position for the omega to rip out a vulnerable throat with aching teeth. Matthew shook his head and reached for clarity, deflecting Hannibal’s punch with both hands. 

That wasn’t the way to win this battle. Matthew didn’t want to kill his alpha, he just wanted to make Hannibal work for his claim. And he would get his claim, there was no doubt about that. Matthew was ready to give himself over to his alphas, his pack, fully and forever. It was more difficult than he had imagined, walking the razor thin line between killing his alphas and creating the perfect mating dance to sate his bloodthirsty omega. 

The thought of Hannibal claiming him, sinking deep into Matthew’s willing and wet body made more slick leak from his hole. He stumbled at the feeling of it soaking his jeans, body aflame. Every movement of his heated body jostled the inhumane, steel collar around his neck, making the heavy metal scrape over his swollen mating glands. 

The sensation was maddening, stealing his attention for long enough that Hannibal was able to grab him, his large hand wrapping around the collar and pulling him forward. Matthew didn’t know the alpha’s plan and reacted instinctively as the collar bit into his mating glands and collarbone, gasping out a mewling, high pitched whine; a call to his alpha for comfort and safety. 

Hannibal stumbled back, letting go of the collar, face slack in shock, red eyes blazing with regret. Will let out a guttural, bone chilling growl and streaked forward, keeping his body between Matthew and Hannibal, following Hannibal’s retreat with lightning fast blows that Hannibal was slow to defend against. 

Matthew sank down to his knees, twisting and snarling as he blindly tried to pry the offending collar off his neck. He was panicking, spiraling further within his mind, instincts rising. The collar didn’t budge, even under his heat rage and Matthew gave up with a snarl, turning his gaze back to his alphas as the smell of fresh blood reached him. The alphas were still snarling and fighting, dancing with deadly grace in the moonlit glade. 

Hannibal’s wounds were bleeding freely now, covering both of the fighting alphas in his blood. It shone dark under the moonlight, an ebony blackness that painted their pale skin, adding shadows where there were none. Will’s pine scent had an acrid edge to it, the woodsmoke nearly overtaking it, reflecting his obvious outrage that Matthew’s omegan call had provoked. 

Matthew couldn’t smell Hannibal, the alpha was too tired, too worn down. That had also been Matthew’s doing. Every wound on the alpha was from Matthew and the omega grinned from his kneeling position, watching their fight with ravenous eyes. 

He had never witnessed a fight of dominance between two alphas in their prime and had never considered that Will and Hannibal would ever do so. But here they were, bloody, snarling and giving no quarter. All for Matthew. 

And Matthew’s omega couldn’t be more pleased. The heat rage was abating, leaving Matthew with a rush of heady mating hormones. His body went lax, his grin turning lazy, his nerves humming and tingling under his flushed skin. His jeans were soaked in slick, sticking and cooling on his legs, creating an intolerable sensation. He was so hard, cock sensitive and pressing painfully against his zipper. 

He struggled to open his trousers with shaking hands, panting and whining as he watched Will bear Hannibal down to the frozen ground, snarling and snapping the whole way. Hannibal didn’t fight it, accepting Will with open arms and open legs, leaning his head to the side in submission. Matthew groaned at the sight of it, dizzy to see Will’s abrupt change in demeanor when Hannibal yielded. 

Will was growling, a constant low bass, almost a purr as he rut down against the other alpha, sucking large, red bruises along every inch of flesh his mouth could reach. Hannibal’s heaving chest, his exposed neck. Hannibal closed his eyes tight and grit his teeth under the assault, giving breathy sighs at every new love mark. He tried to grab Will’s hips, his ass to guide him more firmly but Will slammed Hannibal’s wrists down above his head, his voice guttural, red eyes shining. 

“_Mine._”

Matthew gasped as his cock sprang free, succeeding in peeling his jeans from his wet legs. He shivered as the cool air met his heated skin and clawed his shirt off next, sitting on his haunches, knees spread wide. He fisted his cock with one hand and reached back to shove two fingers in his fluttering hole, wasting no time to tease himself, pumping firmly and squeezing desperately around the intrusion. 

Matthew had never felt like this during a heat, so wanton, so overcome with desire for another. The smooth slide of his fingers wasn’t enough and he added another, twisting as deep as his overtaxed wrist could reach. He pumped his cock in time with Will’s hips over Hannibal, his grip harsh. Matthew bit his lip hard enough to bleed when Will spoke again, sneering down at Hannibal, his hand around the other alpha’s throat.

“_Mine._”

Hannibal gasped loudly, breathing strained, not fighting Will’s hand on his wrists, pressing into the one at his throat. His eyes were blazing with utter devotion, a pleased snarl dancing on his plush lips. 

“_Yes_, mylimasis. All of me is yours. Everything that I am belongs to you.”

Will’s grin in response was utterly feral, large canines gnashing as he stripped Hannibal out of his trousers, the expensive material ripping easily. Matthew keened at the sight of Hannibal’s cock, hard and dripping, flushed red and painful looking, knot swollen. Legs feeling like jelly, arms limp, Matthew fell forward, pressing his ass into the air, craning his neck and dropping his shoulders as far as he could. 

He was presenting for his alphas, alphas who were too wrapped in each other to see. He cried out again, keening, hips high, hole dripping and pumping out heat hormones, trying to catch their attention. He kept his head tilted towards them, their entwined bodies in his line of sight and he saw the moment they froze. 

A cloud passed over the moon, obscuring the alphas. The only thing Matthew could see were two pairs of glowing red eyes peering out from dark silhouettes, raking his naked body. Their hungry gaze was almost physical as they swept Matthew’s trembling body. 

Hannibal tried to rise, pushing against Will’s hold and the alpha turned back, snarling and pressing down harder. 

“Stay _down_.”

Hannibal met Will’s eyes, his expression mutinous but after a tense moment, he relented. He relaxed in Will’s hold on him, turning to stare at Matthew with unrestrained yearning. Matthew was burning hotter by the second, heat induced fever raging, his omega aching to be filled, knotted, claimed. He arched his back to present even more, trying to lure one of them closer, mind clouded and dizzy. Why weren’t they touching him? Was Matthew not good enough-

Will rose quickly and crossed to Matthew with a deadly, graceful lope, lifting the omega up with a firm hand on his nape. Matthew followed where Will pulled, whining and writhing as he rose up to his knees, head thrown back, neck exposed. He opened his mouth to beg Will to touch him but the alpha crashed their lips together, his free hand coming up to stroke down Matthew’s face, his chest, his abdomen. Where Will’s hand went, fire followed, licking over Matthew’s skin and nerves, blanking his mind, leaving him silent and obedient. 

Will dominated their kiss, long canines catching on Matthew’s lips, the alpha’s dexterous tongue exploring his mouth. Matthew melted into Will’s hands, letting the alpha support all his weight, able to do nothing but take what Will gave him. 

Matthew had never found joy in submission, even though it was all his omega craved. But under Will’s gentle, demanding hands, Matthew let everything go. His stress, his insecurities, his instinct to fight...it all fell away to be replaced with an insatiable need for his alphas. He existed only for Will and Hannibal, to do with as they pleased. 

With a deep, rumbling chuckle, Will ended the kiss and Matthew preened under his alpha’s worshipful gaze. Will leaned in close, red eyes blazing, fingers tightening around the back of Matthew's neck, soft pads sliding under the collar and pressing into one swollen bonding gland. His breath ghosted over Matthew’s face, lips pulled back in a frightful grimace. 

“_Mine._”

Matthew gasped and sobbed wetly, face crumbling with a visceral relief, made whole by one simple word. 

“Yes, yes, alpha, please. Yours, always. I swear it.” 

Will cooed at that, nuzzling Matthew cheek and liberally scenting him. Matthew sighed and pressed closer, heart swelling at the possessive acceptance of the action, an alpha marking his omega for all to know. It felt right and his eyes fluttered shut, mouth slack for a moment before his heat rose higher. His body was impatient, the smell of his heat surrounding them.

Will responded beautifully, swinging Matthew’s limp body up into his arms, one arm under his knees, the other a steel band at his back. Matthew sighed and leaned into Will’s neck, soaking up his alpha’s warmth and scent as he walked them back to Hannibal. Will let go of Matthew, guiding the omega as he poured onto his knees, catching his weight on shaking arms, bracketing Hannibal's hips. 

Hannibal lay reclining as if on a nest of the finest silk, cock hard and impressive, spreading out indolent and lazy, a feast for Matthew’s starving eyes. The violent love marks Will had made were growing darker and darker, purple starting to creep over the red left behind. The sight filled Matthew with envy, the omega wishing for nothing more than to be marked like this by Will. Hannibal spread his knees wider to make room for Matthew, lips quirking into a smug smirk. An imperious god welcoming his bowing supplicant. 

Will pushed Matthew down and Hannibal raised his hands to help, reaching for the collar, making Matthew’s scent spike with sudden unease. Hannibal halted and redirected his hands to Matthew’s face, shushing him softly and pulling him down as Will guided him to arch his back with a warm hand between his shoulders. Matthew pushed his face into Hannibal’s thigh, tears filling his eyes as Hannibal pet his hair, large, smooth hands cradling his neck and the back of his head. 

“Shh, my darling. This monstrosity will be removed soon and one day you will wear my collar, yes? Would you like that, omega?”

Matthew nodded eagerly, mouthing at the fine hairs on Hannibal’s thigh, pressing kisses and rubbing his cheek against his alpha. Hannibal moaned and his cock twitched at the sensation, the velvety head smearing fluid over Matthew’s cheek and parted lips. The salty scent of him made Matthew’s mouth water and suddenly, nothing mattered more than tasting his alpha. 

He met Hannibal’s gaze as Will knocked the omega’s knees wide, thumbs spreading his ass to expose his wet, aching hole. Will seemed beyond words now, his hash panting interrupted by the occasional pleased growl. Hannibal smiled at Matthew, encouraging him to relax and all the tension in the omega’s body left him in a rush at Hannibal’s next words. 

“Ah, mylimasis. You are so beautiful like this, presenting for your alphas. Such a good boy. Let us take care of you. That’s right…” 

Will kissed a path down Matthew’s back as the omega continued nuzzling into the crease of Hannibal’s hip, soft lips making Matthew shudder in delight. He had only let an alpha take him early on in his heat cycles, curious and hopeful. He shied away from those memories, the overwhelming disappointment and rage they caused had no place here and now. Sex and heat had never felt like this, so all consuming and..._good, right_. Matthew felt safe in Will and Hannibal’s arms, protected, cared for and most of all hopeful once again. 

Matthew was wrenched out of his thoughts by the feeling of Will’s tongue caressing his hole and he gave a strangled gasp, pressing his hips back, desperate to feel more. Will growled and brought his hand down on the flesh of Matthew’s ass with a _crack_, grabbing his hips with a bruising grip. 

Matthew keened and squeezed his eyes shut tight, fighting the urge to squirm as his cock jerked at the borderline painful sensation. A rush of adrenaline made him light headed and he bit Hannibal’s thigh, feeling as if his body was going to explode if Will didn’t touch him soon. 

Hannibal fisted Matthew’s hair in an unforgiving grip, making the omega cry out, mouth going slack as his head was wrenched up and back. The alpha pursed his lips, eyes blazing and displeased and Matthew bit his lip, body trembling with the effort to stay still. Matthew could only whisper. 

“I’m sorry. Alpha, please. I need you.”

Hannibal’s face softened and he nodded to Will over Matthew’s shoulder, guiding the omega back down. Matthew sobbed quietly in relief, arching his hips back up to present and pressing gentle kisses over the red bite mark on Hannibal’s thigh. Will’s mouth and tongue went back to torturing Matthew, licking his way inside the omega with enthusiasm, making him sob and keen with pleasure. 

He felt Will work a finger into him and then another alongside the alpha’s tongue, pumping and twisting unrelentingly as Hannibal’s hand in his hair guided him to the alpha’s straining cock. Matthew followed submissively, closing his lips around the head of Hannibal’s cock, lashing his tongue against the slit as he suckled it. 

Hannibal gasped above him as Matthew released him to press kisses to the length of it, licking when he felt like it, worshiping every inch. The salty, fleshy taste of him had Matthew moaning, daring to raise his hands to gently caress Hannibal’s chest, tracing the love marks there with care. 

Matthew gasped and breathed out harshly as Will grazed his prostate, whining when Will paused to work the gland with unforgiving fingers. White light exploded behind his eyes and he came suddenly, a rushing wave crashing over his overworked body with no warning, sweeping him away, leaving him loose and momentarily insensate. He pressed his face into Hannibal’s stomach, panting and floating. 

He heard Will give a pleased growl and rise up behind him, the alpha’s hands petting his sides as he pressed his cock into the wet crease of Matthew’s ass. The head of his cock and the swelling knot dragged deliciously against the sensitive nerves of Matthew’s hole on each pass, driving Matthew crazy. 

He was distracted before he could beg for Will’s cock by Hannibal hooking a thumb inside the omega’s cheek, pressing his jaw open and dragging his mouth down. With a choked off whine, Matthew fell upon Hannibal’s cock, closing his eyes with a hum when Hannibal began shallowly thrusting into him. He was heavy on Matthew’s tongue, the smooth head hitting the back of the omega’s throat. Matthew sucked around Hannibal, relaxing his throat to take the alpha as deep as he could. 

Hannibal’s cock was too long for Matthew to reach his knot and the alpha didn’t reprimand him for reaching up to work the gland with his hands. Hannibal groaned and Matthew’s eyes flew open, taking in the visual of the alpha enjoying his pleasure. The alpha’s teeth were grit, abdominal muscles clenching and rippling as he thrust into Matthew’s open throat. 

Hannibal’s eyes were still red and he looked drunk on Matthew’s thick petrichor and moss scent, tinged by the musky sweetness of his heat. His nostrils flared constantly, deep breaths sucking in the air and huffing it out, hand spasming where he still held Matthew’s hair, guiding his head up and down on the alpha’s cock. 

Hannibal raised his other hand from clawing at the ground and snagged one of Matthew’s hands from working his knot. The alpha pressed a lingering kiss to Matthew’s palm before closing his plush lips around two of his fingers, tonguing and sucking on the digits. His eyes went hooded, gaze dark and dangerous. Matthew’s hand squeezed the alpha’s knot tighter, teeth scraping lightly on Hannibal’s cock as the omega choked, shocked and awed. What-?

Before thought could return to Matthew, Will pressed his cock into the omega’s waiting hole, sliding to the hilt in one smooth thrust. Matthew’s eyes slammed shut and he screamed around Hannibal’s cock, throat tightening and his own cock hardening once again. Hannibal hissed and Will let out a low, prolonged groan, fitting his knot easily past Matthew’s rim and grinding it there. 

Matthew squirmed at the sensation, pushing his hips back as he came up off Hannibal’s cock to catch his breath, gasping and still watching Hannibal suck on his fingers. No matter how he moved or begged, Will stayed still, grinding his knot into the omega’s prostate, seemingly content to watch Hannibal and Matthew. Will’s hands caressed Matthew’s back and sides, soothing and teasing all at once. 

Hannibal finally removed Matthew’s fingers from his mouth. They glistened with spit and he ran a soothing hand through the omega’s hair. 

“Such a sweet boy, Matthew. Now be good for your alpha and fuck me with your fingers.”

Matthew gasped at the language, body burning brighter at the soft, lilting filth that continued to fall from Hannibal’s lips as he scrambled to comply. He still felt as if he were floating, anchored between his alphas and yet unmoored at the same time. He wasn’t frightened, though. Especially when he pressed shaking fingers into Hannibal’s tight, furled entrance, watching in awe as the alpha breathed a blissful sigh as he was gently breached. 

Matthew lowered his head quickly, intent on following his fingers with his tongue but Hannibal tightened his fist, stopping the omega and redirecting him to the alpha’s cock. Matthew frowned but followed, throwing Hannibal a questioning gaze as he licked over the leaking head. 

“Shh, beloved. I like a little pain with my pleasure. Harder, now.”

Will chuckled darkly behind Matthew and Hannibal threw the other alpha a cheeky grin before throwing his head back as Matthew started thrusting his fingers into him harshly. It was a tight fit, the alpha obviously not used to this kind of attention but Hannibal seemed to enjoy it. He spread his trembling thighs wider and thrust his hips down to meet Matthew’s curling and twisting fingers. 

Matthew closed his eyes and committed all of himself to pleasing his alpha, working his fingers and taking Hannibal deep in his throat. Will began to shallowly thrust behind him, dragging his thick cock in and out in a slow glide, knot hitting the omega’s prostate each time. The sensation of being filled up fell into the background as he concentrated on Hannibal, desperate to see his alpha come apart under his hands and mouth. 

Hannibal kept up a string of praise and filth, the alpha’s hand falling to cup Matthew’s nape, pushing the collar down, his hand warm and comforting. Hannibal squeezed his hand and that was all it took for Matthew to finally let go, mind blanking, feeling as if he were floating outside of his body. No one had ever gentled him before and the result of calming hormones was a shock to his already overtaxed system. 

His mouth went slack and his fingers stilled inside Hannibal, unable to do much else than stroke over the gland inside the alpha. Hannibal didn’t complain or berate Matthew, taking over for the limp omega, thrusting into his throat, then pushing himself deep and stilling. Hannibal came with a long, drawn out moan, filling Matthew’s throat with come and working his knot himself. 

Hannibal pulled Matthew of his softening cock and stroked his cheeks, wiping away a stray tear and pressing his thumb against Matthew’s lips. Slowly, Matthew suckled at it, eyes blurry and mind still blank. He was aware of everything but unable to respond, latching onto Hannibal’s gentle smile and satisfied scent, his omega preening in his breast. His alpha was pleased. Matthew was _good_. 

Hannibal pulled Matthew up and tucked the omega’s face into his neck, shushing him when he whined at the loss of Will’s cock. Will shushed him as well, cooing and kissing a path over his shoulder blades as he sheathed himself in Matthew’s body again. Matthew was relaxed in Hannibal’s arms, nuzzling into his neck as Will took his own pleasure. 

He couldn’t do much more than cling to Hannibal and whine, his hard cock dragging over Hannibal’s stomach with each of Will’s thrusts. Will set a brutal pace, his rough treatment a direct contrast to Hannibal’s soft soothing. It made Matthew’s head spin and he keened as Will’s knot pressed past his rim, bigger this time, almost too big to fit. 

Will ignored him, tucking his face into Matthew’s nape, breath hot and ragged against his ear. His hands bruised both Matthew’s and Hannibal’s flesh, nails digging and drawing blood as he chased his peak, uncaring and selfish. It made Matthew’s body sing and when the omega came, it had a painful edge to it, eyes shut tight as Will’s knot caught. 

He squeezed around the impossibly large gland, making Will grunt and the alpha’s cock pulsed deep inside him, emptying hot come in his waiting womb. Will collapsed on top of them, still grinding into Matthew and pressed his sweaty forehead into Matthew’s shoulder blades, mouthing absentmindedly at the flushed skin. One of Hannibal’s hands began caressing Will, the alpha soothing both of his mates in the aftermath. 

After a moment, Will kissed his way up to Matthew’s neck, his tongue sliding under the cursed collar to swipe over Matthew’s bonding gland. Hannibal’s hand never paused in petting both of their heads as Matthew began to purr, the vibrations echoing through all three of them. Matthew felt Will press a smile into his skin, still panting as he relaxed further.

With a blissful sigh, Matthew continued to purr as he drifted off into the welcoming blackness of sleep, beyond exhausted. His heat was far from over and they couldn’t stay out   
here in the open for the full length of it. But he trusted his alphas, his mates to look after him. 

Finally, Matthew was safe. He slept knowing that when he awoke, all would be well.


	17. An Ending, Just the Beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it! Thank you so much for all of your support and encouragement.

With his heightened senses due to heat, Matthew emerged from sleep with a jolt, his body jerking into consciousness violently. The first thing he noticed was that he was naked and he clutched at the softness under him, eyes closed tight, all of his other senses alert for danger. It took a few moments for him to remember the encounter with Will and   
Hannibal; their fight, the utter appeasement of his inner omega with dominance between his alphas and sex. 

He relaxed a little, taking in deep breaths to parse through the scents around him. The softness under his hands felt like silk sheets and the smell of sleep and _home, alphas_ made the rest of his unease vanish. With a small, sleepy smile, Matthew opened his eyes and rolled over, giving a long stretch, his sore body twinging. 

As expected, Matthew was in a nest and the sight of the decor made him instantly think of Hannibal. But he didn’t recognize the room; this was not the alpha’s Baltimore house. He pressed his face into the nearest pillow, his smile growing wider as he smelled Hannibal and Will, imagining them sleeping beside him, bracketing him and keeping him safe. 

The room was all dark wood tones with tasteful crimson highlights and a high ceiling. The door was open, revealing a dark hallway beyond and the heavy curtains were pulled shut tight over towering windows. There was a bright, slanted glow coming from around the curtains and Matthew surmised that it was mid morning or late afternoon. The heat still simmered under his skin, ready to rise soon. 

Matthew recalled flashes of their journey here, waking in the back seat of an unfamiliar car, whining and writhing when his heat rose. One of his alphas would drive while the other tended to him, tenderly and awkwardly soothing him before making him take their knot in the cramped space available to them. 

Exhausted, he would fall asleep pressed against them, face shoved against their neck, breathing in their scent. He had no idea how much time had passed, his memories like smoke. He felt much more clarity now, signalling that his heat was near to ending. Perhaps even by tomorrow morning. His heats usually lasted four days with no hunt and no alpha. With two alphas knotting him whenever he called for them? Matthew had no idea what to expect. But he didn’t despair, he wasn’t alone anymore. 

The sound of a shower shutting off startled Matthew upright and he gathered a few pillows beneath his back. He paused as he beat one of the pillows into shape, the smell of Abigail wafting up to him. He pressed his face into the pillows again, chasing the smell of pack and family and then turned to get comfortable, lounging back as he waited for his alphas. 

The door swung open not long after and Will exited, toweling his curls dry, shirtless. A pair of sweats clung low, barely staying on his muscular hips. Matthew eyed him, not bothering to hide the voracious hunger on his face. His scent spiked with arousal, slick starting to gather, cock hardening. 

His heat was starting to burn through his body again but this time, it felt like a calming warmth, suffusing his body with a lazy arousal. The sweetness in the air made Will stumble and he spun quickly to face the bed, eyes wide before he smiled at the omega, face open and welcoming. 

“Good morning, sweetheart. How do you feel?”

Matthew made a show of burrowing deeper under the covers and into the pillows, smiling impishly at his alpha. 

“I’m pretty damn comfortable, alpha. Although, I’m feeling lonely in this big, ‘ol bed.”

Will’s smile turned predatory and his shoulders relaxed into a deceptively loose posture as he stalked forward. Matthew squirmed, his instincts telling him to run as opposed to fight. A feeling Matthew had never felt in the presence of another alpha but his own. 

Will reached under the comforter and grabbed Matthew’s ankle before the omega could decide if he should scrabble away and he pulled. Matthew gasped and laughed loudly, going limp as he was jerked towards Will, his hips settling on the edge of the bed. He let his hands relax next to his head as Will pressed in between Matthew’s open legs, the omega’s half hard cock pressed into the crease of Will’s thigh. 

Will stretched out over Matthew’s body, covering him and claiming his mouth in a ravenous kiss. Matthew melted into it, locking his legs around Will’s hips. He sighed when Will’s hands closed around his wrists, squeezing and pushing them into the plush bed beneath. He felt surrounded, owned. 

Will pulled back, lips shining and blue eyes dilated and filling with alpha red. 

“We can’t have you feeling lonely, baby. What can I do to make it better?”

Matthew could feel Will getting hard against him and he bucked his hips up, tilting his head to the side, exposing the line of his neck to Will’s constant kisses. He only realized when Will reached his bonding gland and nuzzled against it that the collar that Chilton had forced on him was gone. He stiffened and Will raised his head, looking alarmed, the alpha only relaxing again when Matthew raised his hand to caress his throat. 

“The collar…”

Will looked grim and his own fingers followed the path of Matthew’s, making the omega shiver with pleasure at the attention. 

“I destroyed the collar as soon as we got here. I found the key to it on Chilton’s body when Hannibal was harvesting what meat was left from it. I’m so sorry, Matthew. I should have checked the bastard’s pockets sooner. It’s my fault we couldn’t claim you-”

Will looked so gutted that Matthew cooed at him, cutting off his words and soothing his alpha with soft touches and murmured nonsense. Will nuzzled into Matthew’s hands on his face, pressing soft kisses into the omega’s palms.

“My heat is not over yet, alpha. We have time for you to bite me. In fact…”

Matthew rolled his hips up again, grinding both their cocks against each other. Will hissed and his hands flew to Matthew’s hips, his grip on them bruising. Matthew whined but didn’t fight the hold Will had on him, arching his back as Will dipped his head to suck love bites along the taut line of the omega’s neck. He stopped over Matthew’s bonding gland, swollen and sensitive, and worried the tender gland with his teeth. Matthew cried out, trembling, head growing foggy. 

“Alpha, please, _please._”

Will let out a rumbling growl and Matthew watched the alpha throw a considering look at the open door. Matthew desperately started to claw Will’s sweats off the alpha’s hips, fever burning bright, hole clenching for his alpha’s knot. Will growled again when the sweats slipped down to his knees, grinding forward, their naked cocks meeting. It drove Matthew even wilder, the omega mindless in his need. Eyes narrowing down at him, Will gave him a cocky grin. 

“I’m sure Hannibal won’t hold a grudge if I fuck you without him. I have to take care of our precious omega, after all.”

“Yes, yes, alpha. Fuck me, knot me, bite me.”

Will cursed and kicked off the sweats around his ankles, kicking them away carelessly. One strong arm came around Matthew’s hips and he lifted, shoving a pillow underneath Matthew with his free hand. Matthew had expected Will to roll him over, hold him down but this was good too. The omega watched in fascination as every emotion was bared, stark over Will’s features; want, need, love, arousal. 

Matthew hooked his own knees over his shaking forearms, pulling them up and back, fully exposing his aching hole. He was so slick, staining the bedsheets under him, his body more than ready for his alpha. Will gasped at the sight of Matthew presenting himself, eyes going heavy lidded, scent darkening. He ran possessive eyes over the omega, snarling, teeth flashing. His voice was soft, dangerous. 

“Look at you, sweetheart. So greedy for your alpha. Want me to fuck you better?”

Matthew whined loud and arched his neck, beyond words, trying to entice his alpha closer. It worked and Will fell upon him with a resonating growl and a drugging kiss, making Matthew’s head spin. Will slid home with no resistance, no hesitation and Matthew writhed at the feeling of being suddenly so full, clenching around Will’s cock. 

Will ended their kiss, meeting Matthew’s watery eyes, his face still pulled into an ominous snarl. He pulled out and pushed in with hard, punching thrusts, knocking the breath out of Matthew each time. He spoke, voice almost unrecognizable, fingers pressed deep into the flesh of Matthew’s hips. 

“You have no idea how much I want you, how much I ache for you, do you, omega?”

Matthew swallowed roughly, feeling a few tears escape from the corners of his eyes, heart clenching and swelling with surprise and love. Will sounded so sincere, face open and honest. Matthew’s throat closed on a sob. 

“You are mesmerizing. So fierce and loyal, so loving and soft to your pack. Such a good parent.”

Matthew let go of his own knees and wrapped his arms around his alpha, pressing his tears into Will’s neck. He let his alpha’s words roll over him. 

“Fuck, baby, I’m gonna fill you with my pups. Keep you full and pregnant for the rest of our lives. You’ll want for nothing, sweetheart, you’ll have everything your cunning heart desires.”

Matthew’s head was so cloudy and he embraced Will tighter as he felt the alpha’s knot swelling. He leaned his head back, making room for Will to kiss his way to the omega’s bonding gland, licking over it once, twice. 

“Make me yours, please, alpha. I’ll be so good for you. I need it, need you.”

Pleasure rushed through Matthew’s head as Will continued to lick and knead his gland, even the delicious friction of the alpha’s cock in him falling into the background. His whole body was a tense line, overwhelmed with desperation, wanting only one thing; to be claimed. 

He felt Will’s knot catch and he clenched around it, milking it as Will pumped his release inside Matthew’s body. But the heady rush of hormones that followed a knotting wasn’t enough to push the omega into his own orgasm. That only happened when Will’s teeth penetrated into Matthew’s bonding gland like a hot knife through butter, piercing it with a _pop_ that echoed in Matthew’s ears. 

The rush of mating hormones crashed over Matthew and he let out a ragged scream, pressing his face into Will’s shoulder, eyes shut tight. He felt his release throughout his whole body, nerves alight with an all consuming fire. 

He drifted for a long time, letting Will soothe him through the aftereffects of receiving a mating bite. The alpha’s hands cupped every inch of Matthew’s body he could reach, gentling the omega with soul searing reverence. Matthew could feel the newly formed bond between them, stronger than the previously rejected scent bond. 

He could feel Will’s love, his awe and something settled in Matthew’s chest. The last of his insecurities melted away at the undeniable proof of Will’s desire for him. Will wanted Matthew, wanted to be his alpha. He let all of his happiness and relief well up inside him and pushed it over their bond, letting Will feel it, too.

Will gasped and shuddered, slowly extracting his canines from Matthew’s gland, licking over the ravaged skin. His blue eyes were smug and he smirked down at his mate. Matthew chuckled and pushed up onto his elbows, reaching to pull his alpha into a kiss. He stopped before their lips met as Will went tense, the alpha’s face growing sheepish before he turned his head. 

Matthew followed his gaze to see Hannibal stopped short in the doorway. He was wearing a striped cream suit, the jacket discarded and his burgundy shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, exposing the fine musculature of his forearms. His fingers were white knuckled around the loaded serving tray in his hands. His eyes were alpha red, face blank, forbidding, his body held deceptively still. His scent betrayed his shock and jealousy, heavy and oppressive in the air. 

Matthew, nervous at Hannibal’s unexpected reaction, followed his instincts and keened. It was a call for comfort, a call for his alpha and Hannibal’s face softened immediately, his posture relaxing. A smug smirk pulled at his lips as the alpha came forward, turning his back briefly to deposit the tray on the bedside table. 

He spun then, movements graceful, eyes still fully red and approached them. 

“What a sight to behold.”

Will ducked his head, hiding his face in Matthew’s neck, looking embarrassed. Matthew wondered if his alphas had come to some kind of agreement to not take their omega without the presence of the other. Matthew pursed his lips, slightly offended. That seemed a bit too inconvenient to the omega. Weren’t they supposed to spoil him? 

He pouted up at Hannibal as the alpha pet Will, looming over them and running a gentle hand from Will’s curls to his ass. Will moaned and ground forward, making Matthew gasp at the feeling of his alpha’s knot, filling him so full, pulling on his rim. 

Hannibal’s smirk grew and he pressed a lingering kiss onto Will’s forehead before doing the same to Matthew, eyes taking in the omega’s brand new mating bite. Hannibal’s eyes darkened further at the sight of it, scent deepening. He kept a hand in Will’s hair and brought the other up to pet Matthew’s sweaty locks. 

“Shh, Will. What a pleasant surprise, to see my loves so entwined. I have never before witnessed such beauty.”

Will huffed out a laugh and finally lifted his head, his grin wicked. 

“Was pretty great from over here, too.”

Hannibal’s eyes narrowed and a muscle in his jaw twitched. Matthew reached up and poked that muscle, raising one eyebrow and exaggerating his pout, feeling indulgent. 

“Alpha, where were you? I missed you.” 

Once again, Hannibal’s face softened and Matthew preened, pleased to be able to affect his alpha so thoroughly. The thought of Hannibal as being at the mercy of his whims was beyond intoxicating. Hannibal straightened and turned back to the tray. 

“I was preparing breakfast, mylimasis. Only the best for you.”

He lifted the lid off the largest plate with a flourish and Matthew squirmed at the delicious smell. Will rolled them over, scooting them up towards the headboard, careful that his knot didn’t pull. Matthew sat up on his alpha’s hips, enjoying the sight of Will spread out and disheveled beneath him. Will gave him a rakish smile before rolling his eyes at the food as Hannibal set the tray on the bed by their hips. 

“Chilton’s heart? Really, Hannibal?” 

Hannibal tossed his head imperiously and flicked Will’s nose, making the alpha cross his eyes and scrunch his face up. Matthew laughed at their banter, soaking up the domesticity with a ravenous feeling in his breast. There was no one he wouldn’t kill to keep his pack just like this; relaxed and happy, full of love and life. 

“The message was far more important than the artistry, my dear Will. I can not carve the heart from mine own breast. So I have presented our beloved with the heart of his enemy, fairly fought and defeated.” 

Will shook his head but said nothing, a fond smile curling the edges of his lips. There was more than enough space for Hannibal on the bed and the alpha didn’t hesitate to sit, back against the headboard and long legs spread out in front of him. He pulled the tray into his lap and methodically began cutting the succulent heart and tender vegetables into bite sized pieces. 

To Matthew’s surprise, once Hannibal was done, he picked up the food with his fingers and brought it to the omega’s lips. Matthew’s nostrils flared and his mouth watered at the smell of it, his stomach cramping in need. He let Hannibal hand feed him, licking the alpha’s fingers clean every time, watching in fascination as that small act worked to unravel Hannibal’s calm exterior. 

Hannibal couldn’t hide his pleasure at feeding Matthew and neither could the omega. A rumbling purr started in his chest, growing even louder when Will let out a soft sigh, the alpha’s hands mapping Matthew’s skin; head and neck, chest and hips, then back up again. 

“Is Abigail here?”

Hannibal hummed what sounded like an assent, eyes half lidded, looking drunk as he pressed more food into Matthew’s mouth. Matthew grinned at him and raised an eyebrow at Will. Will nodded and answered. 

“She’s excited to see you.”

Matthew smiled tenderly at the thought of his pup, tempted to crawl out of bed right that instant and seek her out. Only Will’s knot stopped him. He waved a hand at the room, making an inquiring sound, licking Hannibal’s finger slowly. He enjoyed the way Hannibal’s red eyes dilated further, brows furrowing. It was Hannibal who answered, tone absent minded as he watched the omega suck on his middle finger. 

“My second home. It is very remote and no one knows I own the property. I can not wait to show you the grounds when you are feeling up to it. The vistas are breathtaking.”

Matthew gave Hannibal a gentle smile before frowning down at Will. 

“Crawford?”

“I left him at your place, unconscious and alive.”

Will paused, looking pensive and then quite determined. 

“There is no going back there, Matt...for any of us.”

Matthew cupped his stubbled jaw, pleased when the alpha didn’t hesitate to meet his eyes. He felt something tender swell in his chest. 

“I have all I need here, alpha. You, Hannibal and our pup.”

Will’s eyes widened, his gaze dropping down to Matthew’s abdomen. Matthew laughed, bright and free, stroking his hand over his stomach teasingly. 

“I meant Abigail but you never know. I could be full of your pups...right...now.”

Will growled and pulled Matthew down for a searing kiss that was more teeth than lips, a claim and a promise. He flicked his eyes to Hannibal to see the alpha shaking his head at them, eyes dipping low, as if he too were imagining Matthew swelling with their pups. After a long moment, Will let Hannibal go back to feeding their omega. 

Only once Matthew started turning his head from Hannibal’s fingers, too full to eat more did the alpha turn his attention to Will. He repeated the process with the other alpha, taking turns to eat some of it himself. Matthew slumped onto Will’s chest, pressing his face into Will’s scent gland, mind buzzing with the contentment he could feel over their mating bond. 

After a few more moments of watching Hannibal feeding Will and Will occasionally trying to nip at his fingers, Matthew felt his heat start to rise again. He writhed and whined against Will, moving enough to dislodge the alpha’s softening knot. He could feel Will’s release leaking from his stretched hole and growled, frustrated. Will chuckled and drew two fingers down Matthew’s back to his hole, pushing his own release back inside with gentle probing. 

“Insatiable omega.” 

Matthew bit Will’s pectoral muscle hard, not enough to break the skin but Will hissed, jumping. Matthew smirked down at him. 

“Good thing I have two big, virile alphas to take care of me.” 

He reached for Hannibal then, leaving Will’s lap for Hannibal’s, pushing the tray to the floor. The dishes fell with a clatter and Hannibal’s face went blank, eyes blazing dark red and scent tinging with anger. Matthew widened his eyes, trying to look innocent but he couldn’t stop the small smirk that trembled on his lips. 

At the sight of Matthew’s amusement, Hannibal growled and lifted the omega with ease, making him gasp as Hannibal flipped him onto his stomach. He followed easily when Hannibal lifted his hips, keeping Matthew’s shoulders pressed to the bed with a heavy hand between his shoulder blades. 

“I have such a naughty omega. What is to be done about that, hmm?”

It all happened so quickly that Matthew had no time to react before Hannibal’s hand was coming down on his right ass cheek. He jerked and cried out at the feeling, almost on the bad side of painful. The rush of hormones and the ache left in the wake of Hannibal’s hand had Matthew whining for more, pressing his hips high. He didn’t have to wait long for the next strike, pressing his teary face into the bunch of duvet under his hands and head. 

“Alpha, please. I’m sorry, forgive me, forgive me. I just need you so bad.”

Hannibal hummed behind him, sounding considering and brushed three fingers around Matthew’s rim. He circled and teased for so long that Matthew turned his head towards Will, willing to beg his other alpha for help. But Will was no savior. He sat watching them with dark eyes, naked and lounging back against a mountain of pillows, arms spread wide, cock half hard against his thigh. 

The air was rife with alpha dominance, arousal and omega desperation. It made Matthew’s head feel fuzzy, mind spinning. He was so in his own mind that the sounds of Hannibal unzipping his trousers only registered after the alpha had slid his cock into the ready omega. 

Hannibal gave a long sigh, as if he had all the time in the world, staying still inside Matthew and setting a slow pace as the omega burned, his heat ravaging his body and mind. Hannibal seemed to know when Matthew was on the precipice of orgasm, stopping dead every time before the omega could find sweet relief. 

Crying didn’t touch Hannibal, neither did Matthew’s pleas and Will was no help. He merely chuckled at Hannibal’s treatment of Matthew, calling Hannibal a sadist and stroking his own cock languidly, eyes red and bright with poorly suppressed humor. 

Matthew _needed_ to be knotted and Hannibal was _torturing_ him. Indignation and anger rose through Matthew so swiftly that he couldn’t fight it off, the familiar red haze of violence settling over his mind like a long lost friend. He would show this alpha what it meant to defy him. 

Neither alpha expected him to attack and both were too slow to stop Matthew from twisting, clawed hand swiping up, his fingernails easily opening three shallow wounds on Hannibal’s cheek. Hannibal reeled back too late, a look of shock lingering in his wide red eyes before he snarled, losing all of his precious composure. 

Hannibal roughly pulled out and flipped Matthew over, bouncing the omega against the bed with so much force that he lost his breath with a loud exhale. A breath that Hannibal didn’t let him replace. One large hand came around Matthew's throat, long fingers clamping tight, unforgiving. Matthew writhed, striking out with his hands, digging his fingernails into Hannibal's flexed forearm but Will stopped him from hurting Hannibal. 

With a growl, Will was upon Matthew, face drawn into a snarl that echoed Hannibal’s. Will grasped his wrists tightly, holding him down while Hannibal spread his thighs with bruising force. Matthew gave Hannibal a feral grin, arching into it when the alpha slammed his cock back inside. This was exactly what he wanted, no gentleness, no slow, torturous pace. He wanted to be marked, he wanted to feel owned. He wanted to feel their mating for _days._ His omega wouldn’t be satisfied with anything less. 

Matthew fought in vain against their hold on him until his vision started to go black at the edges, his hearing nothing but a loud roar. He went limp, eyes half lidded and sank into the bed, gasping for breath as Hannibal removed his punishing hand from the omega’s throat. He was too weak to fight more and he moaned as Hannibal set a punishing pace, snarling constantly, red eyes glowing in rage and hunger as he chased his end. 

His alphas’ hold on his wrists and hips was a grounding force and he let himself float, watching as if from out of his own mind as the wounds on Hannibal’s face bled. Everytime the alpha thrust forward, he snarled possessively, his furrowed brow agitating the jagged cuts. The dark red blood dripped as if in slow motion to land on Matthew’s chest and neck; a further claim. 

So distracted by the slow, mesmerizing drip of blood was Matthew that he missed the signs of Hannibal’s violent completion. He came awake from his daze as his alpha lunged forward, his knot catching and his teeth sinking deep into Matthew’s aching bonding gland. Matthew screamed this time too, his own release tearing through him, his mind firing in overdrive, trying to reconcile another alpha mate so soon after the last one. 

When the daze of hormones cleared enough for Matthew to surface, Hannibal was no longer knotted to him and the three of them were laying together in the middle of the bed like a pile of pups. His face was tucked into Hannibal’s neck and Will’s head was on Hannibal’s thigh. Matthew was able to look down and see Will’s eyes were closed, a satisfied smile dancing around his lips. Hannibal was petting Will’s hair again; Hannibal seemed to particularly enjoy that. 

After an indeterminate time of taking in their mixing scents and feeling along the new pack bond between Hannibal and himself, Matthew lifted his head. Hannibal turned to greet him, pressing a kiss to his forehead and Matthew’s tense shoulders relaxed. He bit his lip and gently traced the oozing scratched on Hannibal’s cheek. The alpha didn’t flinch, his smile growing at the gesture. 

“I’m sorry, alpha. I hurt you.” 

Hannibal shushed him and Will sat up to drape himself over Matthew’s lap, watching as they spoke.

“It is who you are, mylimasis. Will and I both knew that.”

Matthew ducked his head, scent reflecting his nerves as he pressed a kiss into the largest purple bruise Will had left on Hannibal’s chest. He felt Will run a comforting hand up and down his back and arched back into it. It gave him the strength to continue. 

“You really don’t want to...change me?”

It was mortifying how small and scared he sounded. Hannibal raised Matthew’s head with a feather light finger under the omega’s chin and kissed over Matthew’s eyes, his nose, down to his lips. The kiss was slow, sweet and by the end of it, Matthew’s scent was cloying in the air. Will pressed closer, nuzzling against Matthew’s shoulder. 

“You are perfect, mylimasis. I insist you never change. It is worth the challenge of heat rage if it makes you this gentle in our arms after, this soft and compliant.”

Will hummed in agreement, his deep voice a rough grumble as he spoke against Matthew’s skin. 

“Soft and submissive or vicious and bloodthirsty. We love both sides of you. We love all sides of you, Matthew. You’re perfect, the perfect mate for us.”

Matthew shivered as Will’s breath danced over his skin and relaxed between the two alphas, not fighting the blinding smile on his lips. Hannibal chuckled when he saw that smile, pulling Matthew up to press his face into Matthew’s neck. Matthew arched his neck, easily submitting to his new mate and gasped when Hannibal licked over his own mating bite. 

He groaned when Will slipped his fingers over the other side of his neck, pressing gently against the matching bite there. It felt like electric heat, racing from his bonding glands through the rest of his exhausted body. Will’s voice was dark, the deep bass of it vibrating his chest and against Matthew’s back. 

“When you’re all healed, I’m going to collar you, omega. I’ll make it myself, a one of a kind piece, unlike any other. Just. Like. You.”

He punctuated the last words with heavy kisses down the line of Matthew’s neck, the scrap of his canines burning like fire against Matthew’s sensitive flesh. He whined, pressing his back further into Will’s chest, yearning for the day he would kneel before his alpha and receive his collar. 

His cock valiantly tried to respond, his loose and slick hole clenching on empty air. His heat was gone, no longer buzzing under his skin and he whined again, long and high. 

“Alphas. No more. Please, have mercy. ‘M so tired.”

They both chuckled and released Matthew, laying him down to lie between them. Matthew fell asleep with a purr rumbling in his chest. 

*** 

Matthew was awake that same afternoon long before his alphas were. He wanted to stay in bed forever, to soak in the feeling of _home_, of _comfort_ but the call of seeing Abigail again was too much. He ached in his heart to see his pup again, to hold her and see with his own eyes that she was whole and happy. 

Matthew rose quietly from bed, careful not to disturb Will and Hannibal. He stood there next to the bed, smirking softly as he watched the alphas gradually drift closer together in his absence. After a few moments, the two alphas were wrapped up in each other, Will pulling Hannibal into his arms. 

Matthew’s heart swelled at the sight, so full of love and contentment that he felt ready to combust. The bitter loneliness that his whole life had brought was suddenly just...missing. The empty parts of himself were finally filled. This mating, this pack he had found, it all felt right, like undeniable fate. 

He shook his head and headed for the bathroom, determined to shower and explore the rest of the house. The need to move and stretch his legs was an unpleasant itch under his skin. The hot shower went a long way to soothing his twinging muscles and Matthew pulled on Will’s discarded sweats and Hannibal’s crumbled button up shirt. He bit his lip and buried his face in the shirt, giving a pleased rumbling purr to feel so surrounded by their scents. 

Matthew slipped out of the room silently, closing the door behind him and picked up Abigail’s scent immediately. He touched the wall opposite the door and leaned close, inhaling her water lily and patchouli smell. She had been here recently. To check on them? Or him? 

He followed the scent of her to a room at the end of the hall, right next to the stairs leading down. The door was ajar and he gently eased it open, relaxing when it went silently. It smelled like Abigail in here and the omega nest on the bed told Matthew this was her bedroom. He crept closer, curious and laughed when he noticed a few of his own shirts were tucked into her plush nest. 

With a fixed grin, he made his way downstairs, all of his attention caught by the wall opposite him. It was all tall, towering windows, revealing a deep forest. From his position on the highest step, Matthew could see above the trees to a cliff and the endless ocean beyond. Transfixed, he slowly made his way to the bottom floor, imagining he could smell the sea salt tang in the air and could feel the pine needles underfoot.

The ground floor was dark and felt empty, no movement at all, no soft humming of his pup coming from the kitchen, no music drifting from the living room. He was outside before he even consciously decided his next move, inhaling deeply, letting the fresh air cleanse his mind, his soul. With the fresh air came Abigail’s smell and Matthew rushed forward, eager and impatient, eyes sweeping across the wide driveway before landing on Abigail's slight frame, sitting on the cliff’s edge, her long, dark hair dancing in the wind. 

There was no barrier between her and the long drop so Matthew called out to her first, afraid to startle her. 

“That looks dangerous, young lady.” 

Her head whipped around so fast that Matthew was surprised it didn’t fly off her shoulders. A thick scarf was wrapped around her neck, the bottom of her face tucked into it against the autumn chill. But he could see her wide blue eyes as she jumped up gracefully and ran towards him. 

“Matty!”

Abigail fell into Matthew’s open arms with a cry, ripping her scarf away to tuck her face into his neck, desperate to scent him after so long. He winced as she agitated his healing bonding gland and she leaned back immediately, looking apologetic. 

“Oh my god, Matty! I missed you so much. I mean, Will is great and all but he was driving me fucking nuts mooning over you and Hannibal. I swear, I had to kick his ass more than once to get him out of his own head. Ugh, alphas.”

Matthew was smiling so wide it hurt and maybe he was tearing up at the sight of her. Abigail continued rambling at him a mile a minute as she dragged him around the house and to the back porch, seemingly trying to catch him up on the months they were apart. They sat side by side on the porch swing, tucked away in their own hidden oasis. 

Matthew just looked at her, feeling her in his arms and watching the emotions play across her lovely face as she spoke animatedly, inundating him with questions and answering his own. The pack bond between them flared bright and he could feel her joy and relief at seeing him again. The bond fit perfectly right next to his mating bonds and Abigail fell silent when he mentally plucked at it, her face shining as her hand rose to her chest. 

“I felt that! It’s stronger than before. And I feel…”

Her face turned contemplative and she leaned closer, scenting his neck from a polite distance. The encroaching evening shadows played across her face as she moved. They had forgotten to turn the porch lights on and time had slipped away from them, trailing dusk in its wake. 

He grinned at her and tilted his chin up, showing off one mating bite and then leaning to show her the other. The harsh pain had faded and as the skin of his neck moved, the healing glands felt more like bruises. In a few days, the swollen skin would recede to reveal white scars; a perfect match to Will and Hannibal’s teeth. Marks that Matthew would wear proudly for the rest of his life. 

Abigail’s eyes filled with tears and omega gold flashed over them. He knew his own were flashing back in response, a comfort and a reassurance to his pup. His scent went sweet as well, soothing and mellow. She breathed deep and smiled, face radiant. 

He smiled back and opened his arms to her. She didn’t hesitate, melting into his embrace and pressing her face into his chest. They swung on the porch, wrapped around each other until Hannibal found them, his face fond as he announced it was time to start dinner.

*** 

Hannibal and Abigail cooked dinner while Will and Matthew sat on plush chairs at the kitchen bar, watching them work. The atmosphere was lazy, comforting. Hannibal and Abigail worked well together, their movements in sync as if they had cooked pack dinner for years. 

The warmth in Matthew’s chest hadn’t faded and he wondered if this was his new normal. He felt safe here with his pack, not doubting for an instant that his family would stop at nothing to protect him. And he felt the same way. 

But what of the outside world? What of Crawford, the BSHCI? Every one of them were wanted for violent crimes and Crawford was a man that would make it his personal vendetta to see them caught, brought to justice. They had no future here, maybe even not in the U.S. Where did that leave them?

Matthew blinked back to the present, rising out of his thoughts as Will reached for his hand. Will placed a soft kiss to his palm and raised an eyebrow, blue eyes concerned. 

“What’s got you so thoughtful, omega?”

Matthew gave his alpha a small half smile and shook his head. From the corner of his eye, he saw Hannibal turn to them, letting Abigail take over at the stove. He wiped his hands on a towel and threw it over his shoulder, coming to stand on the other side of the kitchen bar. When Matthew turned to look at him, Hannibal brushed his fingertips over the omega’s cheek in silent encouragement. 

“I can’t help thinking about the future. As wonderful as this is...what’s next for us? We can’t stay here forever, can we?”

His alphas exchanged an unreadable look, their bonds giving Matthew nothing but calm determination. They weren’t worried or anxious. He relaxed, slouching over and sipping at his glass of lemonade. He hummed thoughtfully around the straw in his mouth, looking up at them from under his lashes coyly. 

“You know, I have a nice little house in Italy. In fact, that was where I told our headstrong daughter to go when I set my sights on destroying Hannibal.”

Hannibal’s eyes lit up and his face softened, as if the very thought of Matthew trying to kill him was his idea of a perfect date night. Matthew smirked. Knowing Hannibal, the little freak, it was. _Dinner, a movie and a nice knife fight to round out the night_. Matthew tilted his head, remembering the start of his heat and how that had ended with the three of them rutting against each other, sweaty, covered in blood and come. Actually...

Will chuckled and rolled his eyes. Matthew choked on his lemonade when Will threw a pretzel at Hannibal’s head, successfully distracting him from whatever violent, sexy daydreams he was having. Will spoke, his tone dry. 

“Speaking of Italy…” 

Hannibal blinked and cleared his throat, narrowing his eyes as he popped the pretzel into his mouth, chewing it with a hum. He swallowed and answered.

“I also have property in Italy. A country vineyard, miles away from the nearest neighbor. Of course, I have a vast estate with property scattered throughout Europe. If we grow bored or find ourselves pursued, it would be a trifle to pick up and relocate. But as a start, Italy sounds more than ideal. There are many places I wish to show you...my family.”

Hannibal’s eyes grew a little misty and Abigail came to stand beside him. He drew her closer with an arm around her shoulders as she spoke, eyes sparkling. 

“I’ve always wanted to see so many places and Italy is definitely in, like, my top five destinations.” 

Will shrugged, looking unconcerned. He turned to Matthew and tilted his head inquiringly. 

“I don’t care where we go, so long as we all go together.” 

Matthew laughed, thinking of his small, lonely house in Baltimore and being surrounded by the depressing walls of the mental hospital. He couldn’t even imagine what a vineyard would look like, how it would feel to be there, so far away from his lived reality. 

“I vote Italy. Sounds like paradise to me.” 

***

Not too long after, Hannibal shooed Will and Matthew from the kitchen to the dining room. Will escorted Matthew to his seat with a warm hand on the small of his back, the gesture making Matthew’s heart flutter. Something so simple made him feel taken care of, looked after, special. 

The table was already set, an intricate art that Hannibal had handled with grace and skill. There was nothing for them to do but take their seats and watch as Abigail served Will   
with a proud smirk. The meals were plated beautifully and Will and Matthew made vague impressed sounds as the alpha was served. Hannibal preened as he entered the dining room, crossing around the table to serve Matthew with his head held high and proud. 

Abigail took her own seat and turned wide, puppy like eyes to Will, silently lifting her empty wine glass and gesturing to the nearby bottle with it. Will huffed out a laugh and poured her a little, ruffling her hair as he did so. She squeaked in outrage, punching his arm lightly before frantically smoothing her hair back into place. 

“Dad! Come on, stop it!” 

Matthew hid a smirk behind his own wine glass, taking a deep, appreciative inhale as he leaned back to give Hannibal room to set his plate down. Hannibal tensed as he bent closer, his body going rigid. Matthew didn’t have time to react before Hannibal reached out with blurry speed and snatched the wine glass from Matthew’s hand just before the liquid passed his lips. 

Matthew spluttered and looked up with an offended frown, mouth open to retort but the alpha’s scent and the look on his face stopped him. Hannibal’s scent was going crazy, deepening with concern and confusion before lightening almost immediately to a cautious happiness. The whiplash had Matthew’s senses reeling. 

He had never seen Hannibal look so open and vulnerable, eyes shining and glassy, lips trembling and nostrils flaring. Matthew snapped his jaw shut, confused and worried. He glanced to look at the others from the corner of his eye. Abigail and Will had gone carefully still, watching Hannibal warily. 

Hannibal swung Matthew’s chair around and dropped to his knees, leaning close to press his face into the omega’s neck. He inhaled deeply, once, twice. When he leaned back at last, tears were streaming down his face, his red eyes blazing with too many emotions for Matthew to parse. Will’s voice was trembling, hopeful. As if he knew what was happening. 

“Hannibal? Is he…?”

Matthew, bewildered, shared a confused look with Abigail. She shook her head, shrugging. 

“Mylimasis.”

He looked back down at Hannibal when the alpha pressed a soft hand over his abdomen, right over his womb. Matt gasped, clarity coming to him like a fucking hammer to the skull. His hand clutched Hannibal’s over his stomach tightly, fingernails digging harsh grooves into the alpha’s wrist. 

Abigail broke the silence, her voice loud.

“Oh my god!”

As if broken from a spell, a rush of relief and intense yearning crashed through Matthew and he launched himself into Hannibal’s arms. He keened into the alpha’s shoulder as Hannibal held him close, the alpha’s own shoulders shaking with silent sobs. Matthew glanced at the other side of the table, smiling through his tears as Abigail cried out and jumped to her feet and into Will’s arms.

“I’m going to be a sister? I’m going to be a sister!”

Will laughed and embraced her before they both rushed over to crowd around Matthew’s chair, kneeling and jostling to be close to him. Each of his alphas took one of his hands and Abigail hugged his abdomen, head resting over his heart. 

“A pup. I’m really going to have a pup?”

Hannibal leaned over Abigail to kiss him chastely on the lips, moving to make room for Will to do the same. Will’s eyes were shining with tears. 

“Yes, mylimasis, my beloved. I can smell the change in your scent. You are with child.”

Their pack bonds echoed in perfect harmony, filling Matthew up with everything he had been denied before; a place where he belonged. He lifted a trembling hand to cup his stomach, imagining it growing with hidden life. 

Their pack was complete, whole, together at last and for the rest of their lives. In that moment, Matthew vowed that they would never be parted again. Even if the outside world decreed that this happiness was not his to keep, Matthew would never give in, he would never back down. 

The future spread out in his mind’s eye, a life filled with violence and blood, yes. But also acceptance, joy and love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Too fluffy? Just right?

**Author's Note:**

> [come chat on tumblr](https://havok2cat.tumblr.com)


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